


Resonance and Resistance

by spirithorse



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, Sormik Big Bang 2019, consensual sexual content between consenting minors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 71,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: After eight years apart, Mikleo is more than ready to pick of the threads of the hopes and dreams that they had left drop when Sorey had left for Pendrago. But things are rarely that easy, especially when the Shepherds are involved. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a Shepherd in possession of a good resonance must be in want of a seraph.A Sormik Regency Era AU
Relationships: Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 56
Collections: Sormik Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve been trying this story in numerous variations (I think this is actually number 4 or 5), but I really wanted to get this done. Originally, this was more of a Pride and Prejudice like story, but then it changed to be more like Persuasion with elements of both stories and just the general feeling of Regency England. Major thanks to my betas Arivess and Sabi for helping to whip this sucker into shape and for my artist, [Illium](https://twitter.com/Peraperitapera), for all of their hard work in making this come to life. Seriously, check it out.
> 
> As per usual, there will be updates to this every Sunday.

MIKLEO BIT HIS LIP AS pleasure rushed through him, trying to keep the sound building in his throat firmly there. There was a reason for it, but the exact nature of it had slipped his mind. It was hard to concentrate when every fiber of his being was focused on Sorey.

He arched his back, curling his fingers into Sorey’s hair as he tried to press back into Sorey’s thrusts. He was still shaking with his own orgasm but it wasn’t enough, he wanted just a bit more.

He whimpered as Sorey bit down on his shoulder, remembering at the last minute to keep that quiet too. He shook with the effort of it, and with the tight hold that Sorey had on him. That was probably for the best, because Mikleo felt that he would be boneless in the space of a moment if Sorey let go of him, which was not something he wanted. He wanted to be held like this, as close as a human and seraph could get, at least at this point.

He gasped when Sorey let go of his shoulder, the chilly air of the night ghosting over the bite mark. Mikleo felt the pulse of his artes, slower and far more languid than usual, but he was quick to cut them off. He didn’t want it healed too quickly; he wanted it to linger, to feel the mark with every movement and every time someone pressed his shoulder, because it would remind him of Sorey, just like the soreness would. It would be something to hold onto over the coming weeks, something delicious just between himself and Sorey.

He shuddered as Sorey kissed him again, his lips reverent when compared to what they had been before. “Luzrov Rulay.”

Mikleo failed to muffle his whimper, his whole body jerking at the call of his true name, but there was nowhere to go. He had no pact with Sorey, which was the shame of it all. They were close like this, but they could be closer, they could be one being. The sheer want of it made Mikleo shake, which Sorey seemed to take as him being cold.

He felt Sorey shift, Mikleo quick to reach back for him, using his hold on Sorey’s arm and hair to stop him. “No, not yet.”

Mikleo swallowed at the sound of his voice, rough and breathless. It should have been embarrassing, but this was Sorey, and such things were permissible. There was no one else in Glenwood that Mikleo could imagine doing this with. There was only Sorey, and he had seen all parts of him before. There was nothing left to hide.

Mikleo released his grip, smoothing his hand down Sorey’s arm. “Can we stay like this?”

Sorey shifted, but didn’t do more than get himself comfortable. “Of course.”

Mikleo relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut as Sorey nuzzled into his neck. He thought he felt a hint of teeth, but then Sorey was soothing his way with kisses. It was enough to make Mikleo regret the rule that they had established, but it was for the best.

They weren’t supposed to be doing this after all.

Mikleo swallowed, taking a few deep breaths to center himself and to keep from drifting off. It was hard with Sorey so close and with the sated feeling that sex with Sorey always gave him. He felt loose, relaxed, and like he wanted nothing more than to curl up against Sorey and attempt a facsimile of sleep. But he didn’t want to do that, because that would be cutting into the time that he had left with Sorey.

He turned his head, looking down as Sorey finished up with his neck with a nuzzle and a happy sigh. Mikleo stroked his fingers through Sorey’s hair, not able to stop the smile from crossing his face. It was hard not to smile around Sorey. He tipped his head to press his cheek against Sorey’s head. “How long?”

Mikleo felt Sorey’s lips move against his neck like he was counting, shivering through the touch until Sorey raised his head. Mikleo grumbled that he had to move, but he didn’t mean it, and Sorey knew it. Sorey proceeded to ignore him, settling his arms securely around Mikleo.

Sorey’s fingers beat out a brief rhythm on his thigh, straying up before he seemed to remember himself. Mikleo was a bit disappointed by it, but it was the reasonable thing to do, much to his annoyance.

The sounds of the ball drifted across the garden, distant enough that Mikleo was sure that they were safe. The younger humans and seraphim would be dancing and courting. The older humans and seraphim would be alternately watching their charges and gossiping. After all, it was the first time that many of them would have seen each other in a while.

Camlann was quite out of the way of both Pendrago and Ladylake, but the gentry would come back to their country estates at the end of the season in Pendrago, just like the marquises and comtés would return, all to grumble over the contested land like they had for generations, do nothing, and then retreat back to their countries to complain. It was the pattern of the season, and one that everyone was used to. Just like everyone was used to Sorey and him slipping off to the library of whatever home the ball was held in as soon as it was polite.

Except they hadn’t slipped off to a library in at least a year and a half.

Mikleo shot a glance back through the thick tangle of plants, spotting the distant lights of Elysia, the house filled to the brim with the flood of the off season. And he was not tempted to go back, not so long as he had Sorey.

He reached down to brush his fingers over the back of Sorey’s hand, keeping the touch teasing until he couldn’t bear it any longer. He closed his fingers around Sorey’s wrist and pulled his hand up higher.

He smiled as he heard Sorey suck in a quick breath, although he quickly released it on a groan. “Mikleo, what are you doing?”

“Amusing myself, since you’re not answering my question.”

Sorey huffed, quickly turning his head to nip Mikleo’s shoulder in reproach. Mikleo just shivered, his fingers tightening around Sorey’s wrist. “Well?”

Sorey remained at his shoulder a moment more before lifting his head. “A week, at most. Then I’ll be old enough to enroll in the Abbey. Then my future will be fixed, and I can ask for your hand.”

Mikleo huffed, shaking his head. “The offer has been known for years.”

“Yes.” Sorey dragged out the word for a moment before dropping his hand away. Mikleo turned to look at him, disgruntled when Sorey nudged him.

For a moment, he was tempted to stay right where he was in Sorey’s lap, but he moved under the touch, sliding off of Sorey. He groaned as Sorey left him, the soreness making itself known, but that was ignored easily enough. Instead, he reached for one of their cravats, soaking it in water quickly conjured before wiping the leavings from his thighs. He wet the cravat again and passed it to Sorey.

Sorey kept silent until he had cleaned himself off, tossing the cravat carelessly to the ground. He dropped his hands into his lap, staring at them for a long while, long enough for Mikleo to turn and gently cup his face.

It didn’t take more than a soft nudge for Sorey to look up at him, a nervous smile on his face. Sorey reached up to rest his hands against Mikleo’s, their fingers sliding together. “But it’s always been assumed. I want it to be official so we don’t have to sneak around to be alone. Engaged, it will be like we’re children again.”

Mikleo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Sorey’s. “I miss that. There’s only so much of Shiron yawning over our discussions that I feel I can take. It’s not fair for him.”

“No, it’s not. And it means that we can go back to our explorations.”

“Until you go to the Abbey.”

“That’s not a problem.” Sorey grinned. “If I go to the Abbey, then you’re going with me. You’ll be my husband.”

Mikleo felt himself blush at that, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t, not when Sorey’s eyes were so bright with the admission. It sent a shiver of joy down his spine, and a great sense of longing.

He wanted that, he wanted Sorey to himself again and a resumption of all of their old adventures. He wanted to keep moments like these for the rest of their lives together, shining and golden as ever.

Mikleo swallowed, feeling Sorey’s fingers move to slot between his own. “I think I can survive a week.”

“I hope so.” Sorey kissed the tip of Mikleo’s nose, Mikleo feeling himself soften at it. “Until then we’ll steal as many moments as we can.”

“In the hopes that we don’t need to steal more.”

“Exactly.” Sorey grinned up at him before sitting back. He threw a quick look over his shoulder, Mikleo following his line of sight back towards Elysia.

The sounds of the ball were just as strong, which meant that they still had a few hours until they were missed. They had passed the dinner hour, which was the important thing. Now there would be dancing until the early morning hours when the humans would go home. Sorey would need to go then, following his mothers back to their house just off the shrinechurch in Camlann. And then it would be back to their careful chaperoning, of being in the same room with Sorey but nothing more than glances and careful words exchanged, at least until they could slip away.

Mikleo wasn’t sure he would be able to survive a week of that.

He looked down at where their hands were joined, enjoying the feel of Sorey’s underneath his own. It helped the longing a fraction, but just a bit. It would stay there despite the talking and the dancing. In the face of that, he wasn’t ready to go back just yet. He wanted to stay with Sorey and enjoy the fiction of the two of them belonging to each other for just a little while longer.

He leaned forward to kiss Sorey, Sorey quickly yielding. Mikleo shook at the brush of Sorey’s tongue against his lips, opening up eagerly. He rocked forward, tempted to just crawl into Sorey’s lap, but he held himself back. They had time, so there was no need to rush. He could savor this and hold it as a memory with all the smiles, looks, and brief touches that he and Sorey could collect.

Mikleo tipped his head to the side to deepen the kiss, groaning when Sorey was quick to pull him in. Sorey’s fingers pushed into his short hair, Mikleo feeling grounded and restrained.

Sorey kissed him hungrily for the span of a few breaths before pushing him back, Mikleo tumbling back without a fight. A laugh escaped him, Mikleo hearing Sorey echo it before he was grabbing at one of Mikleo’s legs.

Mikleo helped him hitch it up to his hip, tearing his mouth away from Sorey’s as Sorey slid in. He arched back; his eyes fluttering closed as the thrust went deep. Mikleo quickly wrapped his legs around Sorey’s waist, not daring to let him too far out. “Like this, please.”

Sorey nodded, pausing long enough to adjust himself before grinding in deep. Mikleo clutched at Sorey’s back, trying to encourage him further. Sorey responded with vigor, Mikleo gasping sharply with each short thrust.

A moan escaped him, Sorey was quick to cover his mouth with a kiss. Mikleo strained up into him, clawing at Sorey’s back as he tried to get him closer. Even after dancing and a round, he was still hungry for it, hungry to have Sorey as close as possible.

He broke the kiss to give Sorey the time to breath, counting the gasping breaths until he could start kissing Sorey again.

He was just leaning up to do so when he heard someone tramping down the path. The sound didn’t make sense for a moment, not until he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

“Mikleo? Mikleo!”

Sorey froze on top of him, Mikleo meeting his panicked look before he turned his head. Their clothes were scattered off to the side save for a shirt, and that would cover nothing. Even artfully draped over their waists it would be obvious because of their position. Still, being found like this was worse. Any other way they could put it off as the two of them adventuring like they had when they were younger.

“Clothes.”

“Right.” Sorey nodded and rolled off of him, Mikleo wincing at his quick departure, but that was easily enough ignored.

He scrambled at the ground, managing to turn over in time to catch the shirt that was thrown his way, Mikleo carelessly draping it over one shoulder before lunging for his pants. They were just out of reach and he had to scramble for them again. He picked them up only for one stocking and a waistcoat to fall out in a tangle. Mikleo stared at them for a moment before shaking his head. Pants and a shirt would do. It would be a scandalous state of undress for a single seraph and human to be in, but maybe it could be overlooked by those who knew him.

Mikleo reached for the next article, tossing Sorey’s jacket down onto the pile of discarded clothes before he heard a short sound of victory. He turned to see Sorey with one leg in his pants, still struggling to pull the other on. Mikleo nodded, trying to sort out the armful of clothes that he had, but he just managed to drop them.

He was just reaching for his shirt when he heard a sharp gasp from the direction of the path.

Against his better judgement, Mikleo turned his head, meeting Myrna’s shocked gaze from where she stood. He and Sorey had been hidden well enough when they were lying down, but upright they were easily seen.

He winced, curling in on himself. There was nothing that could defend this, the two of them still mostly naked and the rest of their clothes well and truly scattered. Mikleo knew exactly what it looked like, and he suddenly didn’t have the words to explain themselves.

He threw a desperate look at Sorey, recognizing the same panic on his face that Mikleo felt. But he offered nothing, aside from clutching his clothes close to him. It was a ridiculous thing, and it would have been hilarious, except that he could still hear Myrna working through her horror and astonishment. It was just enough time for Mikleo to jerk his hand up to where Sorey had bitten him, hiding the red mark.

That more than anything seemed to spur her into motion, Myrna drawing herself up. “Mikleo! What is the meaning of this?!”

Mikleo glanced back at Sorey, watching as he opened his mouth only to be sent back to silent with a harsh tut from Myrna. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Sorey Kerderrien. I’m sure there will plenty of time to explain yourself.”

Myrna glowered at the two of them, Mikleo shrinking back under the force of it. That seemed to be what she wanted, because Myrna made an impatient motion. “Get rid of that mark, Mikleo, and the two of you get dressed. _Without_ getting closer to each other than you are now.”

Mikleo froze in the act of reaching down for his waistcoat, his fingers twitching before he looked up at Sorey again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was just desperate to have something else there aside from Myrna’s anger.

He didn’t get more than a quick glance before Myrna was storming between them, her arms crossed. “None of that either. I don’t want a word or look from the two of you until you get dressed. And make it sharpish.”

Mikleo heard Sorey mutter something like an agreement, but he was too busy sliding on his pants and shirt. He glanced up at Myrna before purposefully ignoring her demand that he heal the bite. He would keep that; a little act of rebellion even as he fumbled through putting on the rest of his clothes.

He had just pulled the waistcoat on and was struggling with his buttons when Myrna touched his shoulder. The touch was far gentler than he expected considering the circumstances, but it quickly tightened to a hard grip. “That’s enough of that.”

Mikleo looked around, his stomach twisting when he realized that he still had his coat, stockings and boots to put on. He swallowed, glancing at Myrna before daring to disobey one of her orders. “But there’s still-”

“You’ll go without. The path isn’t that rough and the two of you don’t have far to go. You, Mikleo, are going straight to your room and will remain there until I can get Lord Zenrus to attend to your foolishness. And you,” Myrna rounded on Sorey, “Sorey Kerderrien, you will be kept in my room until your mothers can be collected and take you straight home. Your punishment is up to them and Kyme. I should imagine that they will find something fitting.”

Mikleo shivered, bending over to grab the last items of his clothing and clutch them to his chest. That seemed to be the answer that Myrna was looking for, because she turned, making a motion. “You first, Sorey. I don’t trust the pair of you where I cannot see you.”

Mikleo peered around Myrna watched as Sorey ducked his head and shuffled out onto the path. He started forward as Sorey skittered away from the gravel, quickly scurrying to the grassy verge.

Mikleo followed after him, only for Myrna to grab his arm. He turned to look at her, shrinking back at the rage on her face. “Not so fast. You’re staying right here by me, where you can’t get into trouble.”

“But-”

“We _trusted_ the two of you, Mikleo. And this is what you do?”

“I-”

“If it’s a rational explanation then I will hear it.”

Mikleo looked up at the firm set of her mouth and the anger on her face, and thought better of it. There was no explanation for it, none that Myrna would easily accept. The truth had been clear enough, and Mikleo was not ashamed of what he had done, only that he had gotten caught.

He ducked his head, expecting the steady pressure to increase on his arm. His silence was just as damning as if he tried to explain himself, although Mikleo was sure that he would never get that chance. The word would spread quickly enough through Elysia, between the seraphim that lived there and his siblings.

Mikleo tensed his jaw, looking up at Sorey. The human was slumped forward, not even daring to look back, although Mikleo wished he would. He wished that Sorey would look back so he could apologize for not going far enough in the garden or getting carried away. He wished that Sorey could look back so Mikleo could tell him that nothing was changing, that this could not stop him from anything that they planned. But Sorey wouldn’t look back at him. Maybe he thought that it would make it worse, or maybe Sorey blamed himself. Mikleo didn’t know, and he wouldn’t until he got the chance to talk to him.

He sped up a bit, but he was quickly jerked back in line. Mikleo shot a glare at Myrna, his anger quickly fizzling at the furious expression that she shot his way. Mikleo wouldn’t put it past Myrna to get annoyed enough to drag them through the ballroom to compound their shame if they made any more fuss.

He curled his fingers into his clothes, clutching at them tight as he fixed his gaze on Sorey’s back. Myrna couldn’t stop him, not unless she wanted him stumbling all over the place. And Mikleo was sure that Sorey could feel it.

He saw Sorey’s shoulders twitch, the movement quick enough that he was sure that he imagined it. What he didn’t imagine was the way that Sorey looked briefly over his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was a ray of hope. Sorey was cowed for now, at least until they could get a measure of what was happening.

Mikleo licked his lips, giving Sorey a nod. He wasn’t quite sure if Sorey saw it, but he had no doubt that Sorey understood. They had been together all of their lives, this was not going to tear them apart.

* * *

MIKLEO PACED THE CONFINES OF his room, his gaze flicking over to the windows every once in a while. He could see seraphim out in the gardens. They weren’t patrolling, but Mikleo was sure that they wouldn’t just let him pass. They would probably escort him back in his room and request that he stayed there, just like every other time he had asked.

Mikleo made a noise of disgust and started pacing again. His room wasn’t large, not with the connecting corridor that ran down the back part of the mansion closed off. Mikleo paced close to one of the doors, pausing long enough to press his ear against the door to try and hear what was going on the other side. Usually his younger brother was in the room, practicing an instrument or talking with friends, but the room was silent. Mikleo frowned, listening at the door before pushing away.

He didn’t bother to check the other one. It would be the same, complete silence. He was completely closed off in his room, and he had been since the night before.

Mikleo turned on his heel, resuming his pacing.

He had expected to be lectured immediately, but he had just been locked in his room with a stern warning to not bother to try and get out. Mikleo had considered it, but he didn’t know if he could get to Sorey without someone seeing him. Besides, he had thought that he would be scolded directly instead of being left to cool his heels. Mikleo had felt that it was better to appear as put together as he could when the scolding came, which was why he had put on his clothes, putting himself back in order for when Zenrus came to talk to his wayward grandson.

Except that it hadn’t happened.

Mikleo worried at the edge of his thumb, running over the scenarios. They had probably talked to Sorey first, just to get him and his family out of the way of the rest of the ball before tongues started wagging. Then, Zenrus must have closed out the ball. That was good, because it meant that there was time for them to calm down, but it also meant that they had more time to think about what to say to him. Mikleo was sure that he would have preferred the heat of the moment than a carefully thought out lecture.

He turned on his heel again, glancing at the little bubbling fountains that he had spread throughout his room. The sound of running water was supposed to keep him calm, but it had faded into the background more and more the longer he was confined in his room. There wasn’t much that the fountains could help, not when his mind kept running over the facts as he desperately searched for an answer.

What he and Sorey did wasn’t technically wrong. What was wrong about it was that they weren’t engaged, at least not formally. But that had never mattered. There had been an understanding from the moment they had been breeched, an understanding from the moment they were on the cusp of adulthood. They had only playing a polite fiction to their majority or Sorey being accepted into the Abbey, waiting for the moment when understanding could become reality. It was no wonder they got tired of the fiction.

He turned to pace down the other side of the room, slowing when he heard the sound of footsteps. Mikleo took a deep breath, glancing over at his desk. He was tempted to sit down and pretend that he hadn’t been waiting, but that would accomplish nothing. He didn’t want them to think that he was above all of it, he wanted them to know how furious he was.

Mikleo drew himself up, glaring at the door as it creaked open. Some part of him expected to see Myrna. Some part of him hoped that it would be one of his siblings to talk to him before Zenrus or any of the other older seraphim could come to lecture him. But he was not surprised when Zenrus stepped into his room.

The older seraph looked around, tugging at his coat like it was bothering him as he glanced around the room. Mikleo stood his ground, squaring his shoulders when Zenrus looked at him.

He expected the lecture to begin or some comment. Instead, Zenrus just sighed. 

He shuffled over to the chair in front of Mikleo’s desk, sitting down at it with a heavy groan. Zenrus stayed there for a moment before toeing off his shoes, Mikeo turning to watch the dancing shoes fall to the floor. He stared at them for a moment, trying to make that match with what he knew. His grandfather preferred house slippers, dancing shoes were his least favorite kind of shoes. And yet he had stayed in them. He had stayed in everything from the night before, which was unusual. Unless he had never gotten the chance to change.

Mikleo swallowed, but he held himself firm. He couldn’t be cowed by this, not if he wanted to make sure that he was heard. He took a deep breath, stopping when Zenrus turned to look at him. His grandfather looked him over before shaking his head. “So, you’re going to be stubborn about this?”

“Yes.” Mikleo raised his chin, ready to be furious when Zenrus let out a little chuckle.

He watched as his grandfather shook his head, the old seraph leaning back in the chair with a long sigh. “I had hoped that leaving you to wear a hole in the carpet would wear you down a bit, but if you’re intent on being stubborn, then fine.”

Zenrus leaned forward, the exhaustion disappearing from his face. In a moment, he was no longer the kindly old seraph that Mikleo had spent all his life with. Instead he was the imposing lord that Mikleo had seen at times, the one who had watched over Camlann and Elysia Manor since both of them had been barely anything at all.

Zenrus folded his hands in his lap, fixing Mikleo with a steady glare. “You’ve been very foolish.”

Mikleo huffed and looked away. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s because you’re not thinking.”

Mikleo jerked like Zenrus had shouted at him, but Zenrus had barely changed his tone of voice. Mikleo turned to give his grandfather a scathing look, barely paying attention to the way the fountains around the room went silent. “I did _nothing _wrong.”

“If you did nothing wrong, then you wouldn’t be defensive.”

“We are promised to each other!” Mikleo took a step forward, feeling a sudden tension and release, only belatedly realizing that he had used an arte. He went still in his shock, watching for a moment too long as the wave of water headed towards Zenrus before he scrambled to stop it.

He didn’t get the chance. Zenrus rose to his feet and motioned with one hand, that alone enough to block the art and send the water scattering to the ground. Mikleo dropped his gaze to the dots of water on the carpet, staring at the wide splatter before dragging his gaze back up to his grandfather.

Zenrus didn’t exactly look furious, but Mikleo could feel the change in the air. It was the boil before a storm, a distant threat, but Mikleo had heard the rumble of thunder well enough. He swallowed hard, watching as his grandfather shook his head.

“Mikleo, there was no such promise.”

“But-” Mikleo bit his lip as Zenrus repeated his gesture, the pulse of power enough to keep him silent for the moment.

Zenrus considered him for a long moment before gesturing to the bed. It was an opening, but Mikleo didn’t want to take it. He didn’t dare take a step away and lose any more ground.

Zenrus met his gaze for a moment before tucking his hands behind his back, giving Mikleo a long look. “There was nothing official, no matter what the general view of things were. I am not denying there could have been, but no.”

Mikleo felt a chill running through him at the wording. ‘Could have been’ was wrong, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted to argue, but the look from his grandfather kept him quiet.

Zenrus let him have his silence for a moment longer before his stiff posture relaxed. “Mikleo, I spent the last few hours setting the ball to an end, speaking with Sorey and speaking with the seraphim in this household trying to come up with a solution. It wasn’t easy because of the magnitude of what you two have done. Do you understand that?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up, Mikleo not bothering to hide it. He glanced at his grandfather before giving him a curt nod. “I’m not a child. I knew what we were doing.” 

Mikleo turned to pace away, surprised when he was not called back. He didn’t dare turn to look at his grandfather, not when the vague feeling of thunder was still there. Defiance was easier to do when he couldn’t see the consequences. He swallowed, working to keep his voice steady. “And the solution is obvious. Actual promise or not, we always intended to get engaged. Just send for a license to avoid the banns and have us married.”

Mikleo felt his grandfather’s reaction before Zenrus even spoke, the feeling of a storm building until it broke. The surge of power stopped him in his tracks, Mikleo pivoting to stare at his grandfather.

Zenrus hadn’t moved, but his expression had changed from tired to thunderous. He took a deep breath, drawing himself up and glaring directly at Mikleo. “Sit down.”

It was an order that brooked no argument. Mikleo stumbled back a few steps to sit heavily on his bed, staring at Zenrus as his grandfather glared at him. Mikleo almost expected to feel his grandfather’s anger dissipate, but it remained, heavy and foreboding. Mikleo felt his throat go dry, his fingers curling into the covers on his bed. “Gramps-”

“I’ve had enough of your opinions for a moment, Mikleo. You have had your chance to speak, and I will have mine.” Mikleo watched as Zenrus drummed the fingers of one hand against the wrist of the other. The motion came to a stop the moment before Zenrus lifted his gaze to look at him. “Clearly, you understand what you have done, but you haven’t grasped the ramifications of what will happen if anyone finds out.”

Mikleo went pale, his fingers curling so tight into the bedsheets that they ached. His mind jumped back to the evening before, past his own rage to what had happened.

Myrna had let them into the house through the backdoor into the kitchens. Sorey had been dropped off in the room there to wait before he had been taken up the backstairs to his own room and then locked in. Mikleo had assumed that Myrna had gone to fetch Sorey’s mothers and Zenrus; he didn’t think she would have talked to anyone else. It wasn’t the kind of secret that anyone but a gossip would share.

He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth before he shook his head. “No one will find out.”

“They will.”

Mikleo looked up at Zenrus, feeling his stomach drop. “You-”

“Do you think so little of me?” Zenrus looked at him sharply. “I wouldn’t punish you like that, no. Nor would I shame Sorey, Selene, Muse or Kyme. But this is a small town, and news will spread, especially when the host, the Lord of the Land, the priestess and her wife suddenly disappear for the rest of the ball. If that didn’t do it then your siblings would realize that something is wrong just from the way that everyone is acting and what you and Sorey are known to do.”

Mikleo glanced towards the room that he and Shiron shared, shaking his head. He couldn’t sense that his little brother was there, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere else. Anyone in Elysia could be listening, if they didn’t already know. Keeping a secret from the town was one thing, but the seraphim who lived in the manor were like family, the word wouldn’t be restricted with them. But there was always a chance that it would get out.

He licked his lips, trying to hold his gaze steady. “If you’re worried about a scandal, then shouldn’t you push things along?”

“And confirm what rumors may be spreading?”

“If you’re worrying about what this will do to my reputation, then don’t. I don’t feel like my artes are leaving and-”

“_Your_ reputation?” Zenrus stared at him, Mikleo shocked by the confusion on his grandfather’s face. It only lasted for a minute before it settled into such deep disappointment that Mikleo found himself shrinking back.

Zenrus covered his face, staying like that long enough for Mikleo to worry. Even when Zenrus dropped his hand away, the feeling didn’t fade.

Zenrus stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “That’s not the way it works, Mikleo. Carnal relations before marriage won’t draw malevolence to you.”

“Then why?”

“Because it isn’t just about your reputation. What about Sorey’s?”

“We’re going to Pendrago once he enrolls in the Abbey there.”

“How are you sure that they will accept him?”

Mikleo stared at his grandfather, trying to make the question make sense. Zenrus knew Sorey as well as he did, Zenrus had been the one to help encourage Sorey to consider training to become a Shepherd. When Zenrus didn’t speak, Mikleo leaned forward. “You’ve seen him, he has the personality for it, and the resonance. You said yourself that you haven’t felt that much resonance in a person for decades.”

“That was before.”

Mikleo took a deep breath, his anger rising until he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “You said it didn’t work that way! If I can’t get tainted like that, then neither can Sorey.”

“Of course not.” Zenrus waved away his protest like it was nothing, but the hard edge to his expression didn’t waver. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“You just said-”

“Mikleo!”

Mikleo snapped his mouth shut. He expected some kind of gentling or disappointment, but Zenrus just scooted his chair forward. His brows furrowed until Mikleo couldn’t see his eyes. Zenrus settled again, his hands clasped in his lap. “I don’t think you have forgotten why Rolance and Hyland are at war.”

Mikleo nodded slowly. “Because Prince Leon was killed.”

“Yes. Because Prince Konan killed his brother. Consumed with malevolence, he killed his brother and tried to kill his half-brother. And because Maotelus was taken to Hyland.”

“It was his choice.”

Zenrus nodded slowly, finally meeting his gaze. “But does it matter? They saw their king consumed by malevolence, the Abbey supporting him and Lord Maotelus leaving. And then they started losing the war. It doesn’t take much to find meaning, even in the disconnected.”

Mikleo played with the covers. “But the war is over, practically. Princess Alisha and Prince Lyte are in peace talks.”

“And after? Do you think that Lord Maotelus would return so quickly? Do you think that they have forgotten so quickly? Their lives may be short, but this is something that they will not forget for a few generations.” Zenrus sat back a fraction, the chair creaking with the motion. He regarded Mikleo in silence for a moment before sighing. “The damage is done, they reacted during the war. And the Abbey is not Rolance or Hyland. It is all of Glenwood, and all of the Shepherds are in an uproar. The last time the Shepherds were used in war was back when Shepherd Artorius was trying to awaken Innominat. They will hold tight to their new guidelines, Mikleo.”

“But they have to know that it’s not true.”

Zenrus shrugged. “Malevolence is an affliction of the mind. It is the dark thing that worries at the corner of humanity’s souls until they are hellions. If they believe strongly enough that purity means purity in all things, then it would be enough to drive them to malevolence.”

“Sorey wouldn’t.”

“No. Sorey is a young man that knows his own mind.” Zenrus sounded fond for a moment before he was leaning forward again. “But if you don’t listen to anything else I’ve said, listen to this. I does not always matter what is true, only what is believed to be true. People believe that Shepherds should be pure of heart and body until their marriage or pact with a seraph. If they get word, then there’s no reason for them to allow Sorey in.”

“They accepted him!”

“Their minds can be changed.”

“That’s unfair!”

“Yes, it is. But that is Sorey. That isn’t touching on what will happen to his mothers, his father, Kyme, Michael and Lailah, the seraphim in Elysia, your siblings.”

Mikleo felt himself go cold as Zenrus continued to list the people. He reached backwards to better brace himself, staring at Zenrus in the hopes that he would say something to make it better.

Instead, Zenrus stopped and leaned back. The anger was gone, replaced by exhaustion and worry. “Mikleo, this is far more serious than you, although your reputation will suffer as well, not that I think it will affect you as such. But I beg you to think of the others. Selene has a good business here, and one wrong word could stop it all. Muse is our priestess and the people of Camlann must trust her and Kyme to keep them safe from the malevolence. The same with Michael and Lailah. The people need to trust them when they are in town. That’s not even touching on the honor that she has given you.”

“She’s not really my mother.”

Mikleo regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Zenrus’ eyebrows rose and the moderate tone of his voice disappeared.

“No, but you have treated her like a second mother. You lived half your childhood at her shrinechurch. No, we cannot know whose soul you were reborn from after so many died in the fire. But Michael was the one who found you, and Muse gave you the name of the child that she lost. She may not be your mother, but you owe her family more than that.”

Mikleo dropped his head, closing his eyes as Zenrus continued.

“If you insist that Muse isn’t your mother, then does that make Natalie, Shiron, Cynthia and Loanna not your siblings? Some of them were found in Camlann like you were, but some weren’t, and we can’t be sure that you were all related as humans. In your eyes, does that make them any less your siblings?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you know this will fall on them too.” Mikleo looked up at Zenrus in a panic, hating that Zenrus just nodded slowly. “The rest of the seraphim here don’t intend to take a human partner, but you and your siblings are different. You expect to see the world before you settle down with the rest of us. But you must understand, if this touches you, then it touches the rest of them. Your youngest siblings aren’t even out yet, and this will severely limit their prospects if they want it. Natalie is married, but Mason isn’t exactly settled. And I just worry, Mikleo.”

Mikleo stared at him, trying to gather together something other than his panic. It had been easier when it had just been Sorey and him, it should have only been the two of them, and no one else.

He hugged himself, rocking on his bed. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not, and it might not get out, but I’d rather we be safe. Avoiding malevolence is well and good, but sometimes it leads to more malevolence, and that is not an experience that I want for you.” Zenrus stood up, walking across the room to squeeze his shoulder.

Mikleo leaned into the touch, grateful for it. It helped with the horrible fear and emptiness he felt. “Gramps…I…”

“I’m not asking for an apology, Mikleo. I’m asking that you understand, and that you be more careful in the future. And, maybe, you won’t protest when I tell you that I’m keeping you confined to the grounds until I’m sure that this has not escaped and grown in the retelling, for your own sake.”

Mikleo nodded numbly, his mind blank with everything that he had been told. What he wanted to do more than anything was run and find Sorey. He needed to talk to him, to hug him, to just have him there and hear that he wasn’t frightened away by it. But he was stuck, and any attempt to escape would probably land him right back in his room. Mikleo was sure that the rest of the seraphim would be on the lookout for him.

He untangled his fingers from the blankets, folding them in his lap for something to do with them. He cleared his throat, but his voice croaked over the words anyway. “H-how long will I be stuck here?”

“Until I’m sure that things have run their course.” Zenrus smiled at him. “It won’t be long.”

The answer was neutral enough, which was the only reason he decided to push. Mikleo knew it was the wrong thing to ask as soon as the words left his mouth. “And Sorey?”

Zenrus’ smile wavered, Mikleo ducking his head. It didn’t matter what his grandfather said, the silence was more than enough.

Mikleo swayed in place, closing his eyes. He didn’t bother to open them when Zenrus touched his shoulder, not wanting to see the pity or understanding in his grandfather’s eyes. The soft squeeze of his shoulder told him everything that he needed to know.

“No, not without a chaperone.”

Mikleo tensed, leaning a bit away from his grandfather, but Zenrus didn’t let go of his shoulder. That touch kept him from tearing himself away and going back to his pacing, but Zenrus held him in place.

“You understand why I can’t allow that? I gave you and Sorey leeway before, perhaps too much if this is the result. So, until I say otherwise, you will have one of the seraphim with you.”

Mikleo curled into himself, the motion the only thing he could think of to express his disapproval. Zenrus was right, but he hated all of it. In all of the horrible ways that it made sense, there was still some part of him that screamed that it wasn’t far. He’d spent years growing up with Sorey by his side with no worries about propriety. And then it had all stopped for reasons that Mikleo still didn’t understand. Then everything had been secret. Was it any wonder then why they had started sneaking around?

He gritted his teeth, holding his arguments back. His grandfather had made up his mind, and there would be no changing it. He could only nod and pull away.

This time, Zenrus let him go. Mikleo tipped himself over onto his side, relieved when Zenrus took it as the end of their talk.

He stepped away, Mikleo listening to him groan as he bent to retrieve his shoes before shuffling to the door. Mikleo watched him go, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers up over his head and scream in frustration, but he didn’t want his grandfather to see that. His pride wouldn’t allow it.

Zenrus pulled open the door, a squeak from the other side getting Mikleo to prop himself on an elbow.

His eyes widened when he saw three of his siblings crowded by the door, their positioning making it obvious that they had been listening in. Mikleo felt his hands shake. He didn’t know how much they had heard, and it was hard to tell when all of them looked shocked that they had been caught.

The tableau held for a moment more before Shiron took off running, Mikleo hearing him rushing towards his room. Loanna looked like she might follow, but Cynthia was quick to grab her sister’s hand, the two of them holding onto each other as Zenrus stared at them.

Zenrus seemed just as shocked for a moment before sighing, Mikleo watching as he patted their heads. He said something to them, Mikleo hearing the low rumble of his voice, but the words were too quiet. It seemed to just be for the two of them because they nodded and rushed off, still hand in hand. Mikleo watched them go, suddenly envious of their freedom. They could roam the entire estate and no one would call them back. Zenrus probably wouldn’t lecture them either.

Mikleo glared at the door for a moment longer before rolling on his side, pulling the covers up over him. He thought he heard Zenrus sigh again, but it didn’t matter, he didn’t want to hear about the things he should have been considering. He just wanted to be angry and stew in it. And he could, because he wouldn’t generate any malevolence from it, even if he wanted to. It would just prove his own point if he did, that all of this was unfair, all of these ideas and things to hold onto. It was why he and Sorey had started sneaking around in the first place.

He curled into a tighter ball, trying to hang onto the anger as it fluctuated with worry, because there were other seraphim to think about, and he had never wanted to hurt them.

Mikleo groaned and scooted up so he could shove his head under a pillow, hoping that it would be enough to drown out the conflict in his head.

* * *

LOANNA’S FINGERS STUMBLED HEAVILY OVER the pianoforte, flinching with every wrong note until she jerked her hands back. Mikleo watched as his sister sighed and slumped, staring morosely at the keys. “I can’t do it.”

“You have to practice.” Natalie looked up from the books she was reading, marking her place with a finger. “You can’t be an expert in one day.”

“I was with others.”

“That’s because those were pipes.” Natalie set her book aside before standing up. Mikleo gave way to her, stepping back to where Cynthia was squinting at the latest broadsheet, her finger running under the news sections. To her right her embroidery lay forgotten, but Mikleo was sure that it had been that way for years.

He craned his head to look at the rough yellow flowers before his attention went back to where Natalie was nudging Loanna down the bench and guiding her hands back. The two of them bent over the pianoforte, Mikleo only partially listening to their conversation, his attention drifting again. His sisters were fully occupied at their own tasks, which left him with nothing to do. Mikleo snuck a look out the window, longing to go out. But, if he did that, then he would get half the seraphim in Elysia trailing after him.

Mikleo clenched his hand into a fist, feeling the familiar anger flare up. He wanted to be able to walk around his home without someone dogging his steps. He wanted to go into town, to see Sorey.

He closed his eyes. Some part of his mind was calculating how far he would get before someone came after them. For a moment, he entertained the thought.

Sorey might be with either Muse or Selene, which meant that he was in the shrinechurch or Selene’s printshop. Or maybe Sorey was just as confined as he was. Still, they were close enough that he could rush in and find Sorey before running away with him. They could go to Pendrago and enter the Abbey together like they had planned. If that didn’t work, Mikleo was sure that they would find something that they could do, as long as they were together.

Mikleo didn’t need his reputation, nor the prayers of an entire town to keep him going. He didn’t need a fancy vessel, just something to hold him and keep him safe once he was beyond the protection of Kyme’s domain. Like that, the two of them would be perfectly happy; if not as a Shepherd and seraph pair, then maybe exploring and painting the ruins of Glenwood. Mikleo had heard that it was in fashion.

He held the idea close before taking a deep breath. It was perfect and would get the two of them away from all of their problems. It would just be the two of them in the world. And they would never see their families again.

Mikleo released his fist with a long sigh. Sorey would never agree to it, and he wouldn’t be able to do it either. He loved Elysia, his grandfather, his siblings and all the seraphim that lived in the manor. He loved Camlann. If the two of them went away from all of that, it would hurt. Besides, he knew Sorey, the guilt would eat at him until he had to come back. And Zenrus had explained what would happen. The world wouldn’t look kindly on them, nor their families.

He bit his lip, looking over his shoulder at his sisters. Cynthia was completely absorbed in her broadsheet, one finger tracing shapes on the table like she was trying to follow a thread of thought. Loanna and Natalie were still working on the pianoforte, Loanna’s notes smoothing out as she got used to it. The two of them leaned closer to each other and giggled, although Natalie was quick to look over at him.

She sat up slowly, her laughter stopping as she studied him. Mikleo was still trying to figure out what she saw on his face when she rested a hand on Loanna’s shoulder.

The touch was enough to bring Loanna up short, her hands hovering over the pianoforte’s keys before she turned to look at him. She wasn’t as skilled as Natalie in hiding what she was thinking because her eyes went wide.

Loanna quickly slid off the bench, stretching her arms above her head in an overexaggerated manner. She held it there for a moment, obviously glancing back at him like she was afraid that he would look away and lose interest. Loanna eventually dropped her arms, looking between Natalie and Cynthia before clearing her throat. “I think Mikleo has the right idea. A walk sounds good. Cynthia?”

Cynthia looked up, blinking at them. Mikleo watched his sister think through what was asked, but what he noticed more was the way that she kept glancing back at her broadsheet.

Loanna must have noticed it too, because she went to stamp her foot, but she seemed to remember herself at the last moment. She tipped her chin back, looking all the world like Natalie. The expression only lasted for a moment before she turned to look at Natalie. “What do you think? We never see you anymore.”

“That’s what happens when you are married.” Natalie gave her a smile, although she wasn’t looking at Loanna, she was looking at Mikleo. Mikleo watched as Natalie ran her fingers over the keys of the pianoforte, looking wistfully at it.

Mikleo swallowed hard, glancing between his sisters. A walk was tempting, because then he could at least be free, and his sisters were not likely to start trying to lecture him about what he had done. And it had been a while since he had seen Natalie. She and Mason had been busy in Horsea as Mason had attempted to open his own smithy, at least until the war had finished off the small town. Circumstances aside, it was good to see his older sister again, because he had missed having her around, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what Zenrus had said.

Mason was seeking out work in Camlann. Unlike Horsea, there was a use for a goldsmith, but Mikleo couldn’t imagine any of the people in Camlann wanting to buy from a seraph that was related to a seraph who had ruined himself. And Natalie certainly didn’t want to spend her time back dogging his every step to make sure that he didn’t get himself in more trouble. It looked like she wanted to keep practicing the pianoforte, and Mikleo couldn’t imagine that there would have been any instrument for her to play when she was in Horsea.

He turned his head, watching as Cynthia glanced up. She didn’t hold his gaze, Mikleo watching as it slid to the side before she went back to her reading. It was clear what she would rather do, which meant that only Loanna really wanted the walk. But only maybe. Maybe she had just seen him getting ready to go to the library and decided that it would be better to follow him.

Loanna was ten, even younger than him, and she understood that he had to be watched or else something bad would happen. Mikleo wasn’t sure if he wanted to shout at the seraph who had told her that much or lock himself in his room to punish himself.

The only one who should have had that burden was him, because he was the one who had made the choice. He could rage against what had happened all he wanted, but raging about it to his family wouldn’t change a thing.

It took more effort than it should for Mikleo to smile at his youngest sister, Mikleo hoping that she didn’t notice. “You’ve finished with your lesson already?”

Loanna looked back at the pianoforte and winced. “Well, maybe not entirely, but I feel like I’ve earned a rest.”

“Then maybe Natalie should go with you. I was going to the library to find a book, and maybe something for Cynthia.”

“Something about the kings of Rolance, please.” Cynthia didn’t look up from her broadsheet, her hand moving again as she sketched out invisible shapes. “Preferably with some kind of family tree.”

Mikleo nodded, looking back at Natalie. He was sure that he didn’t imagine the flash of gratitude on Natalie’s face as she sunk down onto the pianoforte bench. Her fingers skated over the keys as she looked at Loanna. “I’d love to join you on the walk, but I promised Lawrence that I would give this a thorough testing. Could you stand to wait five minutes?”

Loanna screwed up her face as she talked before it lit up in a smile. “If Mikleo isn’t going, we can take my new pony!”

She rushed out without another word, Natalie laughing from the bench. She turned and splayed her fingers over the keys, pausing before looking back at Mikleo. “Thank you.”

The thanks turned his stomach, Mikleo settling for just a nod. And then he couldn’t stand there anymore.

He turned on his heel and walked away, fighting to keep from running out of the parlor. He managed to keep his composure until he was outside, Mikleo stepping to the side and pressing his back against the wall. He raked his hands through his hair, feeling them shake. He wanted to shout at his siblings that they didn’t need to be like that, to try and anticipate what he needed and accommodate him. He was the one being punished, not them. Most of all, he wanted to find Sorey, because having him there would help. But he couldn’t have Sorey there. It had been a week without Sorey and Mikleo was quickly finding that he hated every moment of it.

Mikleo dropped his hands to rub over his face, taking a deep breath. It didn’t help, it didn’t center him, he didn’t need it, but it was better than just panicking. His sisters were expecting him to come back in, and Mikleo wouldn’t put it past Natalie to come and find him. Mikleo didn’t know what advice she could offer, nor did he know how well he would be able to hold in his anger. It flitted and danced in between the shame, so Mikleo didn’t know what he would do. He could take her advice to heart, or he could just as easily lash out in anger because Natalie had what he wanted.

She was married to the love of her life, the two had courted and celebrated a lovely marriage before leaving to start their long lives together. He might do the stupid thing of holding it against her. After all, the only ones who had ruined the situation were themselves.

He took another deep breath before pushing away from the wall and stumbling towards the library. Mikleo was almost glad that it was the summer, because it meant that the seraphim were out to take care of the estate and look after the tenants. It meant that he could fall apart quietly without anyone else watching.

Mikleo slowed as he passed his grandfather’s study, relieved that the door was open. Considering the beautiful day, it was no surprise that Zenrus was out. His grandfather was probably making the rounds of the vast acres that the manor sat on. Mikleo vaguely remembered something from weeks ago about a problem with the deer in the park, but he hadn’t paid much attention because Sorey’s foot had been inching up his calf. But that meant that Zenrus would be out of the manor until the sun set, or maybe later. That was one less set of pitying and understanding looks that he had to deal with. That didn’t stop him from dragging his hand over the door frame in a lingering touch before moving on to the room next door.

He brushed his fingers over the old carved doors. They had been there forever. Mikleo remembered trying to pick out the animals that were hidden away in them with Sorey when he was younger. Mikleo smiled and reached out to touch the elegant neck of a stag, his fingers sweeping over the curve.

Mikleo paused as he heard the front door open, his fingers sliding off of the stag. Ed stepped through, followed closely by Shiron. Mikleo was surprised to see Shiron practically tearing the gloves off of his hands, clearly still carrying on from what they had been talking about outside.

“I don’t see how it’s our problem after all, he-” Shiron cut himself off as Ed grabbed his arm, Shiron turning to look at him. Shiron seemed surprised for a moment, before he glared and moved back towards the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Mikleo was taken aback by the tone. It should have been teasing, but it was accusatory, so much so that Mikleo stepped back. That didn’t seem to satisfy Shiron, because he shifted entirely in front of the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

Mikleo watched him for a moment before reaching back and touching the door. “Just the library. Cynthia wanted a book.”

“And they let you just wander on your own?”

Mikleo sighed, reaching out for the handles of the doors. “It’s just the library.”

“You’ve said that before, and I don’t think it was.”

Mikleo blushed bright red, and he heard Ed cough, but Shiron seemed to think that he was in the right. He just gave Mikleo a strict nod, staying at the front door. It was not needed, and it brought the anger flashing back.

Mikleo swayed forward, tempted to give Shiron a piece of his mind, but he kept running up against the main problem. He wouldn’t be able to make any argument, because it would come back to him, and he couldn’t defend against that.

He sighed and shook his head before leaning into the library door. It creaked open in a familiar way, but even the sound couldn’t soothe him, not when Shiron was edging towards him. Mikleo shot Shiron a glare, hoping that his little brother would back off. Zenrus hadn’t said that he had to be escorted everywhere, just outside of Elysia. Shiron glared right back, looking a moment away from following him into the library when the front door slammed open.

It knocked into Shiron’s back, making him stumble. He turned around, Loanna ducking around him to rush into the hallway. She glanced over at him, seemingly surprised to see him out of the parlor. It was enough to get her to stop in her tracks, Loanna wobbling in place before pivoting to look at him. “Mikleo, Mikleo!”

Mikleo let the heavy library door swing shut, his full attention on his sister. “What is it?”

She pointed breathlessly towards the front doors, the motion turning into a more ladylike gesture at the last minute, although Mikleo doubted that she really realized what she was doing. “A carriage, in the drive.”

Mikleo took a step, trying to see out the front door, but he only caught sight of Myrna hurrying over to the carriage with Zenrus. The two of them blocked the coat of arms on it, making it impossible to tell who had driven up. Mikleo glanced back over to Loanna, reaching out as she came barreling over to him.

She grabbed onto his arm, tugging him towards the door. “Mikleo, come on.”

“Loanna, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see if you _come on_.”

“He can’t!” Shiron scurried in front of them. “He’s not allowed to go outside.”

“The door isn’t outside.” Loanna stuck out her tongue, Mikleo nudging her to stop.

She grumbled and tugged on his arm, but Mikleo ignored it in favor of looking over at Shiron. “I’m allowed to look outside, and even go outside if there’s a chaperone.”

“Loanna doesn’t count.”

“Gramps never said that.”

Shiron glared at the two of them before stomping his foot. “Loanna won’t stop you from sneaking off to see Sorey again. And then everything will be worse! They’re already talking about it in the market!”

Mikleo felt himself go cold, staring at Shiron. Shiron just nodded, gesturing out towards the door. “Ed and I were just there and that’s all anyone could talk about.”

“H-how do they know?”

“It’s not hard. Someone went into the library and figured out that you and Sorey weren’t there. Or they were suspicious when the two of you never came back to the ball. Or when Gramps left for a few hours and, when he came back, he started asking people to leave. Or maybe they noticed that Priestess Muse and Kyme left.”

Mikleo pressed his lips together, glaring at his brother. It was obvious when he was laid out like that, but that wasn’t the problem right now. He wanted to go out and see who had arrived in the carriage. There weren’t many in Camlann who could afford a carriage and were prominent enough for a coat of arms. Even more important, it was outside, and he would have enough people with the rush to see who was visiting to be suitably chaperoned

He gave into Loanna’s tugging, following after her. Shiron started at the two of them in shock for a moment before quickly moving to stand in front of him. “No!”

“Shiron, I’m just looking out the door.”

“No! You don’t deserve-”

“Mikleo.” All four of them turned as Zenrus spoke, the seraph stepping inside the manor. Zenrus took in the scene with a quick sweep of his eyes before fixing his gaze on Mikleo again. “Sorey is here.”

Mikleo pulled his arm from Loanna’s, taking a step forward before forcing himself to stop. What he wanted to do was run out the door and to Sorey. Mikleo had no idea what he would do once there, but he was tempted to grab Sorey and run, run until every else left them alone. But that would mean leaving their families behind, so maybe clinging to Sorey so tight that they couldn’t be torn apart again would be better. The two of them might be able to make Zenrus see sense. If the word was out like Shiron had said, then the best course of action was to rush a marriage. If the two of them were already ruined, then trying to keep the secret didn’t matter.

He swayed in place, glancing between the door and Zenrus. His grandfather wouldn’t trick him or test him like that, but he still hesitated, waiting for the other shoe to fall. There had to be something, because there was something different about the pity in Zenrus’ gaze and the way that he was being allowed to go without any warning or reminder of what he had done.

Mikleo hesitated a moment longer before moving forward, keeping an eye on Zenrus as he walked past. He still expected Zenrus to reach out and tug him back, but Zenrus just stepped aside, nudging Shiron back with him. His younger brother huffed, looking ready to mutiny, but that would be their grandfather’s problem. He could hear Sorey talking outside, and that was what he desperately needed after a week apart.

He covered the rest of the distance at a run, shouldering open the door. He rushed forward across the porch, catching himself at the last moment on the railing. Mikleo clung to it as he looked down at where the carriage was. Mikleo barely glanced at it, pausing long enough to see where Sorey was before pushing away and taking the steps down two at a time.

Mikleo glanced over the curved railing as he rushed down, seeing the moment when Sorey realized that he was coming. He had been talking to Selene before, but he immediately turned and rushed over, his arms open to catch Mikleo as he jumped down to the ground. Sorey caught Mikleo’s arm, the touch nothing but proper for a moment, and then Sorey was tugging him close.

Mikleo grabbed onto him tightly, pressing his face against Sorey’s shoulder. He didn’t want to let go; he _wouldn’t_ let go again. This was more important than a spotless repetition. As long as he had Sorey, he would be fine.

He relaxed as Sorey squeezed him tight, comforted by the hold. He wanted to do the same, but even the tightest he could go wouldn’t be enough. He wished for a pact so he and Sorey could armatize. Then that might finally be close enough.

All too soon for his taste, Sorey was trying to pull back. Mikleo shook his head, not willing to give up yet. If he did, there might be a chance that someone would try and drag him back into the manor, and that would be torture. One glimpse and a hug was far from enough to get him through another week.

He dug his fingers in when Sorey tried to move away again, sure that it was to the point of being painful with the way Sorey took a deep breath. Sorey held himself tense like that for a moment more before he was sinking back in, Mikleo eagerly gathering him as close as the two of them could physically get.

Sorey smoothed a hand down his back, Mikleo melting into the touch. He was so intent on the slow trail of it down his back and the sound of the rumble of Sorey’s words in his chest that he almost missed what Sorey was actually saying.

“Mikleo, I can’t stay long.”

Mikleo looked up, frowning at Sorey before looking back at Selene. She wasn’t looking at them, but it didn’t seem to be out of shame. She was busy around the carriage, standing up by the coachman to speak to him. Mikleo turned his head to look back at the front of the manor, relieved when none of the others were there. They were giving him his moment, so there was no reason that they had to be separated again. Even if there was, Mikleo was not about to let it happen so passively again.

He shook his head, curling his fingers into Sorey’s shirt. “There’s no point, not if the town really knows like Shiron says.”

Mikleo studied Sorey’s face, watching as Sorey winced and looked away for a moment, but that was all that he needed. He took a step back, trying to tug Sorey along. “Then we do what we planned, right? That will get them to start talking. Until then, you can stay here because no one will bother you or your mother until this is done. And then people will forget.”

For a moment, he thought Sorey would accept. He certainly looked like he was thinking about it, Mikleo feeling Sorey’s hands tighten on him for a moment before they were going loose again.

When Sorey spoke, it sounded like the words were being ripped from him. “I can’t. I have to go.”

“Go?” Mikleo stared at him, watching for any of Sorey’s usual tells, except there were none. Sorey was looking straight at him, with a clearly pained expression, like he was trying to memorize him. Mikleo shook his head, not sure what part of it he was denying. “Go where?”

“Pendrago.” Sorey glanced back at the carriage, shifting like he was going to block parts of it from Mikleo’s sight.

Mikleo pushed away from him at that, circling around Sorey to stare at the coat of arms on the carriage. He didn’t recognize it, but he had a very small pool to draw from. Mikleo was sure that he would find it out if he ran to look at the books his grandfather kept, but that would be a waste of time. He took a deep breath, looking over the carriage, only to stop when he saw the trunks on the back.

He took a step back, clutching at his arms. It didn’t help, because it still felt like he was drifting off. They were packed, and neither the coachman nor Selene were moving to take the trunks down, which meant that this was just a quick stop before they continued onward to Pendrago, which might as well be the end of the world for all he could get there. It would take a week for him, if he could get permission to go, and he didn’t have a vessel to protect himself outside of Kyme’s domain.

He looked back at Sorey, hating that Sorey didn’t try to come back to his side, but instead staying where he was, staring at the ground. Mikleo swallowed, trying to get control of his voice. “H-how long?”

“I don’t know.” Sorey rubbed the back of his neck. “Mom wrote to my father the night we were caught, and he sent back a response express inviting us to Pendrago. He suggested that I join the Abbey now instead of waiting, before any of this can make it to Pendrago.”

Mikleo stared at him, shock holding him still. He had expected this, but he expected time.

They’d had a plan. They would announce their engagement, get married and then go to the Abbey to start their lives together. There was always time to pack and say all the goodbyes they needed. But Sorey was leaving now, and there wouldn’t be another chance.

He glanced over at the trunks on the carriage before nodding. “Right. Just let me…” Mikleo made a vague motion, his mind already jumping to what he needed. He wouldn’t take much, just a few changes of clothes for propriety’s sake, something that he could use as a vessel in a pinch, money and a few trinkets that he wouldn’t be able to leave behind. It wouldn’t take him more than a few minutes, and he could say his goodbyes on the way out. Maybe it was the best like that, gone before he could really start to miss them.

He took a step back, surprised when Sorey reached out to grab his arm. The touch brought him up short, Mikleo turning to look at him. Mikleo meant to explain himself further, or reassure Sorey that he was ready to go, but the absolutely shattered look on Sorey’s face stopped him.

Mikleo stared at him, before reaching out to touch Sorey’s hand. “Sorey?”

Sorey’s mouth moved, like he was struggling to get the words out. Mikleo thought he heard the start of something, but it took Sorey several tries to begin to speak. “Y-you can’t come.”

“What?”

Sorey’s hand tightened on his arm and he swayed forward, like he wanted to make a lie of his words. Mikleo didn't have the heart to pull away, not when everything was crashing down around him.

He looked down at Sorey’s hand, tempted to reach down and tear it off of him. Mikleo reached out, settling his hand on Sorey’s but he was unable to do anything else. This had been their plan all their lives, and Mikleo refused to believe that one week would change Sorey so completely that he would do this. It must have been something else.

Mikleo squeezed Sorey’s hand, not quite sure if he was offering comfort or taking it for himself. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t come. The Abbey…they won’t let you.” Sorey glanced up at him before looking away, his free hand patting at his pockets. It took him a moment to find what he was looking for before he shoved papers at Mikleo.

Mikleo had to let go to look at them, fumbling with them as he tried to sort them. Almost all of them were written in the same rushed, crabbed hand, save for the last on a thicker piece of paper, one that had a different kind of handwriting than the rest. Mikleo turned it around the right way, reading it as quickly as he dared.

_Mr. Kerderrien,_

_We are delighted to inform you of your acceptance into the Abbey based on recommendations given by Shepherd Michael, his Prime Lord, and General Heldalf. We welcome you to join us before the start of the academic year in the fall for testing to determine your current level of resonance and what curriculum would be best suited to you. Regardless of your age, you will start your formal training with the incoming class of the year and diversify your studies once you have passed the base classes._

_Please be informed, you will be provided with your black training uniform by the Abbey. Any uniform bought or inherited will not be accepted. The point of the training uniform is to ensure that all of the class will start out on the same level despite various advantages._

_DO NOT bring a seraph. There are no exceptions for engagements, marriages or formal pacts between you and a seraph. Any formal agreements will not be annulled, but they will not form part of your early training._

Mikleo stared at the letter, ignoring the rest of it to keep rereading the first part. Some part of him was surprised by what he was reading, but more of him was just trying to comprehend what it meant. He looked up at Sorey, slowly stretching out his hand to hold the papers out to him. “But…but we had a plan.”

“I know.” Sorey ignored the papers, grabbing onto Mikleo’s hand with such force that he almost dropped them. Mikleo curled his fingers to hold onto them, barely hearing them crumple as he stared at Sorey. “I know and I’m sorry, but I didn’t know. But they say this is training, so maybe when I’m a Squire…”

Sorey didn’t sound sure, which made Mikleo want to shake him. “That could take years.”

Sorey gave him a sad smile. “Do you think that badly of me?”

“No, but…” Mikleo struggled to voice his frustration. The rule seemed arbitrary. Worse still, he couldn’t just ignore it. He knew no one in Pendrago. Sorey was going to his father’s house on invitation. If he had been invited as well it would be one thing, but he hadn’t been. If he wanted to go, he would have to set himself up and do something to earn his living until Sorey was done training, but that would mean leaving home and being sure that no one would come after him.

He reached out to grab Sorey’s arm, holding him tight. For a moment, he was tempted to tell Sorey not to go. There were other things they could do, they could still travel the world, they could still study history at one of the other universities. Either of those meant that they could still be together, but that hurt in a different way.

This had been their dream. This had _always_ been their dream.

Mikleo swallowed hard, his hands slipping away from Sorey. It seemed like Sorey had been waited for that, because he gently pulled the papers from Mikleo’s hand.

He didn’t bother to uncrumple them, instead just holding them in their awkward bundle. Sorey took a deep breath like he was doing to say something, when Selene stepped forward to touch Sorey’s shoulder. Sorey startled at her touch before looking back at Mikleo, but then Selene was pulling him back. “Sorey, we have to go.”

Mikleo shook his head, reaching out for Sorey when a hand landed on his arm. He twisted to look, surprised to see Zenrus standing by him. He hadn’t heard his grandfather approach, nor did he know how long Zenrus had been standing there. “Gramps.”

His voice broke over the word, Mikleo not caring that he was pleading. Zenrus would understand, he had to because it was the only thing that Mikleo had wanted.

His grandfather hesitated for a moment before reaching out to draw him close. “I’m sorry, Mikleo, it’s for the best.”

“No!” Mikleo pulled himself away, slapping away Zenrus’ hand when it reached for him. “No. The best for who?”

Zenrus draped an arm around his shoulders, Mikleo feeling more restrained than comforted. His grandfather was silent for a moment before he shook his head. “Camlann is talking about it. I don’t know who spread the news, but distance will only help.”

Mikleo turned towards his grandfather. “Then why can’t I go?”

Zenrus heaved a sigh, the sound a warning that he had pushed too far, but Mikleo didn’t care. _He_ had been pushed too far with this nonsense. It was all nothing but excuses and he was sick of it.

The arm around his shoulders resettled, this time definitely restraining. “Shepherds are not allowed to be married, not during their training. Not after Artorius. You’d go in an untenable position.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when there’s no one who will receive you.”

Mikleo shook his head. “I just need Sorey.”

He looked over at Sorey, smiling at him and getting a smile in return. It only lasted a moment before Zenrus was squeezing his shoulder. “Would you cut Sorey off from the rest of society as well? And after him?” 

Mikleo swallowed, not liking the question. “H-he’ll come back.”

“What will you do in the meantime if you’ve cut yourself off completely?” Zenrus gave him a moment to answer before sighing again, this one not carrying the same frustration. “That is my point. You’re too young for all of this.”

“Too young?” Mikleo tore his gaze away from Sorey, twisting so he could push himself away from Zenrus. He reached out behind him as he backed away, waiting for Sorey’s hand to slide into his own. He never thought it wouldn’t be there, and he wasn’t disappointed. Mikleo threaded his fingers through Sorey’s, holding onto him tightly.

The warmth of Sorey’s hand in his own was a reassurance, Mikleo feeling brave enough to tilt his chin up and glare at his grandfather. “Natalie was engaged when she was my age. She's married and she’s barely two years older. What’s the difference?”

“She was _engaged_.” Zenrus leaned on the word, Mikleo feeling his breath catch at the distinction. “When they approached me, they planned to remain engaged until Mason had finished his apprenticeship, and possibly longer if the smith at Horsea hadn’t been eager to have him help. She showed maturity. You and Sorey snuck around behind our backs. Do you understand now, Mikleo?”

Mikleo opened and shut his mouth, trying to get the words to come out around the sudden blockage in his throat. When it was laid out like that, it made sense. 

He had been there for most of it, still focused on Sorey, but he and Natalie had talked a lot about it because there had been no one else. Shiron was always out in the town and the two others were too young to quite understand it beyond it being about love. He had listened to all of Natalie’s hopes that things would hurry along because she didn’t want to be waiting forever. For seraphim, that could actually mean forever.

He shifted his hand, twining his fingers with Sorey. Even with that, he didn’t want to let go of Sorey. There was still a chance for an engagement, even a long one, but now Mikleo wasn’t sure that it would be given. Zenrus might not be in the mood and Selene might refuse on principle. If anything, they would probably give in once Sorey was safely away and the two of them had been properly chastised. It would be a great lesson to the two of them, and Mikleo hated it.

He clutched more tightly at Sorey’s hand, reluctant to let go of him. “We’re not going to change our minds.”

To his relief, Sorey was quick to step up beside him, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m going to ask for Mikleo’s hand, nothing will change that.”

Selene gave an exasperated sigh, Mikleo twisting to look back at her. She rubbed the back of her neck, a very familiar gesture. “No one is denying that. But it won’t happen now. Georg is expecting us, and we have miles to cover.”

Mikleo bit his lip, reacting instinctively. He leaned into Sorey, practically pressing his face into Sorey’s shoulder. He wanted to stay like that, to cast and arte that would freeze them that way. But that would just keep them together without actually being conscious of it, which isn’t what Mikleo wanted. He wanted Sorey by his side like Lailah was for Michael, like Mason was for Natalie.

He pressed his forehead against the bony part of Sorey’s shoulder, clutching at him. “Write to me?”

“Of course. Every week. Until I come back.” Sorey paused, Mikleo shivering as his voice pitched down to a whisper. “Wait for me.”

“Yes.”

Mikleo felt something like a kiss brush over the top of his head, and then Sorey was pulling away.

It was natural to try and lunge after him, to try and hold him close, but Sorey was already turning back towards the carriage, and Zenrus was holding him tight again. This time, Mikleo didn’t struggle against the hold. He stood under it and watched as Selene and Sorey stepped into the carriage, the door shutting. It must have been the cue that the driver was waiting for.

They clucked to the horses, Mikleo feeling his stomach jerk as the animals lurched into motion. He leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of Sorey. Sorey seemed to be thinking the same thing because he leaned out the window. 

Mikleo caught his gaze and held it, trying to ignore the feeling that something precious was being ripped from him as Sorey raised a hand to wave. Mikleo was sure that he should be returning it, but he couldn’t because then it would make it all real. Maybe there was still some chance that it would turn out to be all a dream, or maybe Selene would change her mind and keep them in Camlann where they belonged.

It was only when the carriage started to move around the curve of the drive that Mikleo startled into motion. Then, the curve took his view of Sorey away.

Mikleo stumbled away from his grandfather. He barely realized that Zenrus let him, too busy hurrying out to the center of the drive.

For one frantic moment, he couldn’t see Sorey, then Sorey was leaning out the other side, looking back at him. Mikleo took a slow step forward, some part of him telling him to run. He didn’t need to rest, and he would be able to catch up. He had to catch up because it wasn’t right to watch the most important thing in his life disappear. But shock kept his feet rooted to the ground, Mikleo watching as the carriage swept up the drive and into the avenue of trees, taking Sorey from his sight.

It was like that was the only thing that had kept him upright, Mikleo crashing to his knees in the gravel of the drive. He took a deep breath, distantly hearing it break. It didn’t matter, nothing else really did.

Sorey was gone, and he had been left behind.

* * *

MIKLEO WAS USED TO THE staring, he was a seraph from Elysia. They had been on the property since before the village was there, back when Elysia had been a wattle and daub chieftain’s house. The seraphim had been there as the village grew, Elysia had been refurbished into a castle and then finally into a manor house, something more like the style of the other manor houses that dotted the mountains. And Camlann had always known that they could look to Elysia for powerful and well-trained seraphim. Any seraph from Elysia was a good catch, but Zenrus’ grandchildren were the best of them.

Even with his tentative understanding with Sorey, Mikleo had been aware of the attention, but it had meant nothing to him before. It had been different before.

He glanced from side to side as they walked down the street, fighting the urge to dart behind Natalie. It was his first time outside of the boundaries of Elysia, and he didn’t want to waste it. But everyone was _staring_ and it was different from before. It made him want to rush back or at least find someplace where he could steady himself, but there was nowhere.

He swallowed hard, dragging his gaze from the ground to the rest of his siblings.

Cynthia was leading the group of them, practically skipping. She was probably only stopped short of it because Natalie was there watching her, and Cynthia was very focused on proving that she was mature enough. She might not have been able to attend formal dinners yet, or the balls, but the time was quickly coming.

Behind her was Loanna, her head turning as she looked everywhere but the shops. Mikleo saw her gaze dart over to the open ground where the horse market was held every other week. Her shoulders slumped when she saw that it wasn’t in session. She was dropping far enough behind that Shiron grabbed her arm to keep up. He was rushing to keep up with Cynthia. He wasn’t bound by tradition, but he wasn’t out yet, at least not formally. That didn’t mean that he was any less excited about the chance to go shopping for fabric. After all, news was trickling in daily about the end of the war between Hyland and Rolance, and Zenrus couldn’t forbid them from going to a victory celebration.

Mikleo snuck a look at Natalie, surprised when he caught her gaze. His sister smiled at him, although she seemed distracted. Mikleo couldn’t figure out why, but maybe it was something to do with the crawling sensation of being watched.

Mikleo threw a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing a knot of people on the street. It was obvious that they were having a conversation. It should have been easy to look over, especially with the news of the upcoming victory, but Mikleo couldn’t help but get nervous. It made him want to rush home even more.

He jerked his gaze away, focusing on the shop ahead of them. To distract himself, he worked on the latest reply to Sorey in his head.

_The Elysalarks are coming back, so I’m sending along a few feathers to replenish your supply._

_Rumors are flying about the treaty will allow the mountains to govern themselves. I don’t know how much of it is true, but it’s getting the people of Camlann excited. I’ve been digging up books with information about the times before we were disputed territory. There’s a lot to go through and I miss your uncanny ability to skim right to what we need._

_I _miss_ you_.

Mikleo closed his eyes, relying on his siblings to keep him in line as he tried to center himself. It was a daily thing, multiple times a day. He had to readjust himself to a version of his world that didn’t have Sorey within a close distance. He was learning to walk in a world off kilter.

He rubbed his thumb against the underside of his fingers, looking around. Camlann wasn’t too crowded, but it was still early. People might have been just starting their day, or working on their letters. The war might have been over, but that didn’t mean that everything was finished. There were still people to enquire after and the treaty to wait for. They would be out soon enough, although Mikleo wasn’t sure that he wanted to see them. It had been a long while since he had been in the company of anyone but his family and there had already been rumors…

“Oh! They got a new shipment!”

Mikleo jumped as Cynthia shouted, laughing at himself a moment later. He glanced over at Natalie, seeing her smile and shake her head, but she did speed up in her own excitement. Even Loanna, who had been lagging, perked up. Shiron was the only one to react differently, reaching over to pinch Cynthia and then having to dart away from the swing she took at him. Mikleo felt the ground rumble in a warning even as Shiron skittered away.

“Cynthia!”

“Cynthia, manners.”

His little sister responded to Natalie, lifting her chin and shaking her hair out of her eyes. The response was not something that Shiron liked, because he pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. Mikleo didn’t know what he expected; the two of them were only a year apart, it wasn’t enough of a gap for Cynthia to respect or fear him. The two of them had been playmates until recently, since Shiron had discovered that there was a world outside of running through the park at Elysia. Now he spent more time primping and out in the village with Ed.

Shiron shot a glare at Cynthia before hurrying ahead, Mikleo hearing Cynthia make an indignant noise. For a moment she looked like she was going to hurry after him, but instead she dropped back to walk with them. She gave their middle sibling an imperious look before flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

“I never want to be like that. Stop me before I do.” She didn’t wait for any of them to respond before she strode out again, seemingly firm in her resolve to get to the shop despite Shiron’s presence.

Mikleo chuckled to himself and shook his head. She had been stuck around Elysia for almost as long as he had.

He turned his head as Natalie took his arm, his older sister leaning against him with a sigh. Mikleo returned the favor, the two of them leaning into each other as they walked.

“I’m glad this is all over.” Natalie spoke in practically a whisper. “I just want to get back to our lives the way they were before, with fewer soldiers marching through.”

Mikleo looked around, spotting a knot of young seraphim. He let his gaze slide over them before he focused back on their destination. “Some might mourn the loss of the soldiers.”

“Some just like the shine of a uniform.” Natalie squeezed his arm. “I think we know better. Uniforms look dashing, but they always go away. It’s what’s underneath that matters.”

“And you married a goldsmith.”

“I’ve got to get my shine somehow.” Natalie gave him a teasing smile before nudging him along. “Come on. If new stock is in, then everyone must be rushing there. I need things for a new gown or two, mine are stained through with soot.”

“Don’t wear them where Mason is working.”

“And Loanna needs something.” Natalie continued on like she hadn’t heard him. “She’s worn through everything and I want to save _something_ for the rest of us. Besides, it would be good to have something in case she decides to shoot up.”

“You sound like you’ll be busy.”

“Of course. It will keep me from-” Natalie snapped her mouth shut, Mikleo seeing her jaw twitch. It wasn’t hard to imagine what she was going to say, the guilty flick of her eyes said enough.

Mikleo squeezed her arm, not trusting his own voice. It didn’t seem quite fair to point out that Mason wasn’t too far away, not when Sorey was practically across Glenwood. It was the mutual sense of loss that mattered, and Mikleo would take the sympathy.

They were silent as they walked up to the shop, Mikleo’s gaze moving over the fabrics draped artfully in the front window. They were probably the most expensive and there to catch the eye, all things in the bright colors of red and blue, the two colors that no one had quite dared to wear, at least not in those shades. 

After centuries of being fought over by both Hyland and Rolance, no one wanted to declare their alliance so openly. Now that there was a truce, new royals on the thrones, and the chance for the strip of land between the two countries to be recognized as its own country, everyone seemed to be more amicable. Mikleo wasn’t sure he would be able to manage it. Besides, they weren’t his style. There was a difference between being well dressed and being a dandy, and he was not eager to cross that line. If he had clothes only good for laying around in decorative splendor, how was he supposed to get anything done?

His gaze slid away to a sprigged muslin, one with bright yellow flowers that would have been just the thing for Cynthia when his attention was jerked away by Loanna grabbing his hand.

Her indifference seemed to have come to an end, the sight of fabric and the promise of a new riding habit enough to start tugging him, and by connection Natalie, towards the shop. “Hurry!”

Mikleo chuckled, picking up his step only slightly so he and Natalie wouldn’t get dragged to the door. He needn’t have worried, because Loanna gave up on it in favor of dashing after her sister, just managing to keep from bowling the people in the shop over as she wiggled between them. Mikleo took a deep breath to scold her before giving up. There was no way that Loanna would hear him now, she would be planning her next riding habit to match her pony. Being stuck within sight of the manor had meant that Mikleo had heard about all of her raptures about her first pony of her own, not a hand-me down pony. Mikleo didn’t think that there could be a more spoiled pony, but he couldn’t make fun of her for it. It had been wonderful to have someone who didn’t look at him with nothing but pity.

He rocked back onto his heels, looking over at Natalie. “Will we make it home in time for dinner?”

Natalie eyed the crush before giving a careless shrug. “Maybe just. Or maybe we’ll be stranded here for weeks.”

“We have the advantage there.”

“Yes.” Natalie tipped her head to the side before shaking her head. “But I’ve gotten fond of eating. I will miss it.”

She pressed her lips together before she could laugh out loud, but Mikleo was sure that he heard something like a giggle escape. She got a better hold of his arm and stepped with him into the shop.

Mikleo had to brace himself against the crush, not used to so many people and so much talking. The seraphim at Elysia would talk, but they had all of Elysia to be in. This was a small shop of Camlann’s high street, filled with people and seraphim excited about the end of the war.

He scanned over the mass, turning his attention away when Natalie nudged him. He twisted to look at what she was nodding at, his excitement guttering.

There was a set of feathers on display, bright orange feathers shed by Elysalarks. It was a familiar, seasonal thing. But it was also something that reminded him so much of Sorey. There was always a bright orange feather somewhere on Sorey.

He squeezed Natalie’s hand, relaxing into her when she tugged him close. “You should get a few, to show that you’re thinking of him.”

Mikleo stared at the feathers, aching to follow Natalie’s advice, but he held himself back. “I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“I don’t see why it should. You weren’t forbidden from talking to him and the Abbey has no rules against friends sending each other gifts. Just being engaged, apparently.”

There was a bit of anger in her voice, Mikleo looking up in time to see an annoyed expression flash across her face, and then she was back to a proper, neutral expression. It was gratifying that she was mad for his sake, a little better than some of the older seraphim. Then again, she had been in love and engaged the most recently.

He squeezed her arm. “I’ll just have to be ready when he comes back then.”

Natalie didn’t say anything in response, but she held on tightly to his arm. It was nice to have the support, but he didn’t want her having to shore him up. They weren’t there for his sister to try and cheer him up, she had her own things to do. There might not be a household to set up yet with Mason still looking, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t make a start.

He nudged her towards an opening in the crowd, having to really lean into her to have Natalie start to move. “Come on, let’s find something else you can get stained with ash.”

Natalie made a fake offended sound, something that Mikleo knew to ignore. He had seen some of the gowns in question, so there was no doubt in his mind that Natalie would go right back to working beside her husband. It almost made him jealous.

Mikleo bit his lip, trying to rein the feeling back. It was only until Sorey was back, not forever. He could manage it.

_Dear Sorey,_

_I found more feathers than you would know what to do with. The shop on the high street and the birds out in the park are safe from you for this year, and maybe the years after. I’m sure it’s a good thing._

_I miss you._

Mikleo was jerked out of his imaginary letter when one of the people shifted, stepping back into him. Mikleo twisted, having to let go of Natalie to be able to squeeze himself past. It gave the man beside him room to right himself as he did the same. Mikleo bowed as much as he was able, stuck on the outside of the jam. “I’m sorry.”

“No. The fault was-” The man made a choked sound, Mikleo looking up at it.

The man stared at him for a moment, Mikleo watching as his eyes widening. The shock only lasted for a moment before he was reaching out and tugging on the arm of the woman next to him. She was quick to attend, her eyebrows rising before she gathered her skirts. “We’re finished here.”

The man mumbled something that might have been polite and then they were quickly pushing their way out. Their rapid movement made the others turn and look, first at them and then at him.

Mikleo shrunk back against Natalie, his stomach twisting as they all went through the same moment of recognition. No one stopped to nod to him or greet him like he was used to. Instead, they grabbed the person closest to them and fled from the shop. Mikleo could only watch until the crowd thinned to a group of young humans and seraphim that had been stuck towards the center of the shop.

For a moment, Mikleo hoped that they were too involved in their shopping to stay, but as soon as the door was clear they started heading towards it. Mikleo could only watch in shock, stepping forward when he saw Shiron in their midst. “Shiron.”

His brother jumped at the sound of his name, but he didn’t look over. He just started to chivy the others out quicker. But it wasn’t fast enough to get away completely.

Cynthia skidded out from where she was looking at a rack of hats, planting herself in their way. “The crowds just left, you should stay.”

They all broke into their separate excuses, Mikleo not sure if it was because they were all talking over each other or the rushing in his ears that he couldn’t hear them. Cynthia and Natalie seemed to understand just fine, because the former was frowning and the latter was quick to pull him against her.

Cynthia allowed the pratting for a moment before stepping forward, Mikleo feeling the floor rumble and rock beneath his feet. He stumbled into Natalie, surprised that she hadn’t been thrown. Or maybe she was buoyed up by the wind that whipped through the open door, curling at their backs. Mikleo expected Natalie to remind Cynthia about proper manners, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Instead, it was Shiron that shoved his way to the front of the group.

“You’re being rude, Cynthia.”

“Aren’t they?” The earth gave one more threatening rumble before it stopped, Cynthia gesturing wildly at the knot of frightened looking seraphim and humans. “It’s not like he’s _actually_ tainted.”

Mikleo felt his stomach drop as understanding rushed in. They had left because of him, because of what they had heard of him. He was a seraph who had gotten caught in the middle of carnal acts outside of a marriage, outside of an engagement. To them, that made him susceptible to malevolence, never mind that it wasn’t true. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true, what mattered was what they thought. And it had been enough to drive the crowd out of the shop.

He swallowed, his throat feeling dry in spite of it. His first impulse was to leave, to just run until he was safe and he could gather himself back up again. Like this he was too open and exposed, and he didn’t have the words to defend himself. Except that, if he ran, there would be no one there. There would be no hiding himself in the shrinechurch or Selene’s print shop, Sorey wasn’t there to laugh over this with him. Running back to Elysia wouldn’t do anything, because there would be nothing to do but lose himself in the park and forest behind the manor. He would still have to come out eventually.

Mikleo looked at the group, meeting Shiron’s gaze. His brother was quick to look away, shoving at the nearest person. “Hurry.”

The group broke up, flowing around Cynthia despite her shout of disbelief. They kept just short of running, but all of them rushed through the door and to the other side of the street.

Cynthia followed them to the door, leaning out of it to yell at their retreating backs. “You COWARD, Shiron!”

“Cynthia.”

Natalie seemed to have recovered enough to scold her, although Cynthia didn’t look at all repentant. She turned to glare at them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well he is.”

“You don’t need to shout it.”

“I do. He won’t listen otherwise.” Cynthia tensed her jaw, holding the tension there before turning to look at him. “Are you alright?”

Mikleo nodded quickly, feeling a blush rise on his cheeks. He didn’t want his sister to worry, he didn’t need her to be snubbed in the same way. She was still so young, and there was no reason for her to throw away her chances.

The silence that followed was awkward, Mikleo wanting nothing more than to run out of the shop just to escape it himself. He felt like something was pressing down around him, making it hard for him to breathe.

The shopkeeper had the good sense to break it, the man clearing his throat before rapping his knuckles lightly on the counter. “Natalie, I have just the thing for you. I saw it and thought of you. In fact, it would do well to suit all of you,”

Mikleo looked up, watching as the man bustled behind the counter. He seemed to be throwing almost desperate glances at the door, either like he wanted them to leave or he wanted to follow the rest out. The shopkeeper couldn’t meet his eyes either, which made Mikleo feel a flash of shame. After all, he had listened to what he had been told, he had just ignored it when it came to Sorey. Mostly because it hadn’t mattered, because Sorey had been a sure thing. But maybe he should have listened, because now it was just troubling everyone.

Except that it was none of their business.

Mikleo took a quick breath distantly aware of how loud the sound was in the suddenly quiet shop. What passed between him and Sorey was between the two of them alone. Besides, it wasn’t like he could generate malevolence because of it, nor would Sorey generate any from this. He was far removed from Camlann.

The thought brought the customary pang of hurt, but it was quickly followed by a rush of anger. If there was any malevolence, it would be from them because they were too busy poking their noses into things that didn’t concern them. He and everyone else associated with him were being punished for something that no one else had any right to comment on, and it infuriated him.

He jerked his arm free of where Natalie was clutching it close, either as a comfort or to keep him in place. Mikleo didn’t know, nor did he care.

Natalie whispered his name, but he ignored it, Mikleo taking in the shop in a quick glance. They were all going to be rushed out of there, Mikleo had no doubts about that. But they could at least throw some of their weight around, just enough to show that they would not be so easily tossed away. Both Cynthia and Loanna seemed to be still processing the slight, and Mikleo couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Natalie. His gaze moved back over to the feathers, Mikleo picking out the four best that he could see before storming up to the counter.

He barely stopped himself from slamming them down, instead putting on his best bland smile even though he felt like lashing out. All of this was because he hadn’t acted right, so he was going to toe that line heavily, at least until he figured out something else to do.

The shopkeeper stared at the feathers, Mikleo sure that he knew the significance. Camlann was not so big a town that he didn’t know who the feathers were for, and just what they meant. If Mikleo had been properly shamed, he wouldn’t be doing it. But Mikleo was anything but properly shamed.

It took the man a moment to gather himself, Mikleo feeling slightly gratified by the way that he stumbled over his words. “Will…that be…all?”

Mikleo was about to nod when he spotted a spool of ribbon on the wall behind the counter. It was the color that caught his attention, a green that he usually wouldn’t wear, but it was striking. It was the same green as Sorey’s eyes.

He ignored the yearning and the swoop of his stomach to point at the ribbon. “A yard of that.”

The shopkeeper turned, looking at the ribbon before moving into action. Mikleo watched the man work, the lack of polite chatter jarring. He was just getting the ribbon measured and then packed up with the feathers. Mikleo barely paid attention to what he said the price was, he dutifully fished out the amount in exact change, just to get away from him.

The package was placed on the counter instead of into his hands, but Mikleo didn’t complain. He snatched the package up and nodded to his sisters. “I’ll meet you outside.”

He walked out of the shop before they could say anything. It was a retreat, but at least it was one of his own making. Mikleo could live with that.

Mikleo took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he clutched the package to his chest. It didn’t help much, but it at least kept him from shaking. That was the whole point, for him to feel so shamed and shunned until he retreated in the proper manner. Mikleo couldn’t give them that.

He smoothed his fingers over the paper, finally looking around. The street was much the same, and no one was actively trying to ignore him, they were all too busy with their own lives, which he was grateful for. Mikleo looked across the street, sighing when he saw Shiron and the knot of seraphim and humans he had been with.

They were all bunched together and talking, and Mikleo was sure that their topic was him from the way that a few of them glanced his way. The shocked glances were hurtful enough, but the fact that Shiron was with them made it hurt more. His brother was shaking his head like he was one of the seraphim who had lived centuries instead of his thirteen years. Mikleo just glared right back at him, not surprised when Shiron looked away. A line had been drawn there and, as much as it hurt, Shiron had chosen a side.

“-and I have no use for cowards!” Mikleo turned to watch as Loanna stepped out of the shop, the slam of the door behind her the only thing that cut off her tirade. She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall. Mikleo raised an eyebrow, about to remind her of her manners when she rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Elysia has plenty of old dresses to be made over. They might not be the latest thing, but I don’t see the point of it. The newest thing is always changing. Besides, there’s not much that _won’t_ match Jasmine.”

Her voice was just pitched perfectly to carry, and Mikleo was sure that it was on purpose. Mikleo eyed the few people that walked back and looked at them before trying to discreetly nudge her. “Loanna.”

“What?” Loanna glared at the group of people across the street. “I don’t see why I should be quiet. It’s an insult. And since Sorey isn’t here to duel for your honor, someone has to.”

Mikleo pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, not sure what amused him more. The idea of Sorey actually calling on someone to duel for him and the impracticalities of it – he could hardly be both the object of insult and Sorey’s second – or the idea of his youngest sister marching up to someone for a duel. She’d probably try to ride them down on Jasmine and call it done.

He cleared his throat. “No one is dueling.”

“Well, they should.” Loanna leaned more into the wall and pouted. One look was enough for him to see that she wasn’t about to be moved, so he twisted to look at the shop.

To his surprise, both Cynthia and Natalie were heading to the door without purchases. It looked like Natalie was practically dragging Cynthia but, by the time they reached the door, the two of them were walking arm in arm.

Cynthia shoved the door open with far more force than was needed, but Natalie was quick to catch it and let it fall back more gently. The motion was at odds with the stormy expression on her face. Mikleo could see the moment she noticed where Shiron was standing, her head jerking back slightly before turning to look at them. Mikleo expected her to look back at him with pity, but the annoyance was still there. She let go of Cynthia’s arm, reaching for her wedding band before stopping there. Mikleo waited for her to turn the ring, but her fingers remained still.

Natalie stood in front of the shop for a moment longer before shaking her head. That seemed to bring her back to herself, Natalie taking a deep breath and turned to look at all of them. Whatever anger or disappointment there had been was gone, replaced with a neutral expression, the careful one that meant trouble. “I think an exploration to the attics is in order.”

Loanna and Cynthia were quick to nod and just as quick to dart off. To Mikleo’s surprise, Natalie didn’t try and get them to slow down. Instead, she looped her arm through his. A gentle tug brought him close to her side. For a moment, Mikleo was tempted to resist, but Natalie was walking like there was no one else on the street, certainly no one staring. “I’m proud of you.”

Mikleo blinked, trying to work out what she meant before giving up. “What?”

“Of what you’re doing. I was afraid that you were going to hide away.”

Mikleo ducked his head as they passed a group of people deep in gossip. From the way they glanced over at them, he was soon to be the topic if he wasn’t already. “Sometimes, I want to.”

“Don’t let them.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” Natalie squeezed his arm before loosening the pressure. “I’ll try and buy you the time to write a letter to Sorey and send the feathers on. But then we might need your help sorting out suitable things in the attic.”

That was bound to be a huge task, and clearly one to distract him from what happened and how he was missing Sorey. Still, he was grateful for it. The anger wouldn’t last long, and he would be back to the awful embarrassment.

He smoothed his fingers over the package, trying to be gentle so as not to disturb the feathers. The mail would probably make a mess of them, but they would get to Sorey, and that eased some of it. He wasn’t like the others that had been shamed. Sorey hadn’t run from him, he’d run from Camlann and all of the petty gossip. Sorey was constant, and he would be too.

Mikleo took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as another group of people passed. It took more effort than he thought, especially when he heard his name whispered, but it had to be done. He wasn’t about to bow to them, because then he would keep doing it, and he was terrified of being cowed by it. He would just wait out Sorey’s time in the Abbey and be ready for him when he got back.

Mikleo lifted his chin, even daring to glare at the next person who mentioned his name. Just like he expected, they ducked their head and scurried away, probably afraid of catching whatever malevolence he had. Mikleo curled his fingers into the paper of his package, and worked to banish the rush of shame and annoyance. The sooner he got used to that the better, because then he could start ignoring it.

He leaned into his sister, glad of the supportive squeeze she gave to his arm. It helped, just like the sight of Loanna and Cynthia walking in front of them, chatting happily and seemingly without a care in the world that people were staring at them because of him.

He took a deep breath, fixing his gaze on the trees and the distant top of Elysia that he could just see over them. It was familiar, and it meant that he wouldn’t have to go through the same terrible feeling of watching and knowing what everyone thought of him. At least there he could find some distraction.


	2. Chapter 2

HIS HEAD BROKE THE SURFACE of the water, Mikleo taking a deep breath even though he didn’t need it. It was habit, picked up from a childhood spent around Sorey, who had needed to breathe to live. He had yet to break the habit, although he didn’t see the reason to. Sometimes the humans got jumpy when the seraphim did something unexpected.

He reached back to touch his hair, drawing his hand down the length of it as he pulled the water from it. Mikleo gathered the water in the palm of his hand, flicking it carelessly back into the river as he turned. He cast a critical eye on the water wheel, watching as it creaked slowly back into motion. Nothing was making it stop, nor could he sense anything sticking. The current of the water felt right, not curving around anything or slowing.

Mikleo watched the rotation a few more times before turning and walking back up to the bank. He absently pulled the water from his clothes as he went, flicking the last of it into the river as he approached the two waiting on the riverbank.

Mikleo nodded at them, offering a smile as he reached back to check the ribbon that kept his hair in a queue. “It was just a buildup of rocks and sticks, probably from the flooding this spring. It’s all clear now, all the way around.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mikleo.” The two men bowed, one of them quick to hold out his jacket and cravat.

Mikleo nodded his thanks, folding his coat over his arm as he looped his cravat to tie it around his neck. He worked in silence for a moment, only speaking when the knot was done and he was just tugging it into place. Mikleo smoothed his fingers over the fabric before shaking out his coat and beginning to put it on. “I would still watch for snags further up the river. Some of the others have reported that there’s still some debris coming down.”

The man holding his horse snorted derisively. “Only because His Lordship keeps fouling his end of the river.”

“Quiet!” His companion elbowed him, Mikleo noticing the nervous look the man shot back upriver. “At least try to respect his lordship.”

The man grumbled, Mikleo pressing his lips together to keep from voicing his own opinion. For whatever he might do, Lord Bartlow was their neighbor, albeit a neighbor of five miles distance and closer to the Hyland side.

Eight years their own country wasn’t enough to clear the centuries of infighting, and Bartlow could all too easily make it hard on them in the Hyland court. Gramps could just as easily go over and give the lord a serious talking to. After all, Zenrus was technically the holder of all of the land for miles around. Bartlow paid rent to him, and Mikleo was sure that they could figure out a way to make this a violation of the terms of his tenancy. The shame was that Mikleo was sure that Zenrus would never send Lord Bartlow packing, something about keeping good relations with Hyland. Mikleo didn’t quite know how well that would work, especially when the Princess of Hyland seemed to be just as eager to get rid of Barlow herself. Along with, if rumors were true, most of the council from her father’s day.

Mikleo shook his head, letting the thoughts slide away. What Bartlow was to Hyland wasn’t his problem; his problem was making sure that the water wheel was moving smoothly, and he had done that.

He glanced up at the sky, frowning when he saw the progress of the sun. Unsticking the wheel had taken longer than he had thought, and Gramps would be waiting for him to come back with his report. More than that, Loanna would want to know how the horse had been doing.

Mikleo glanced over at where the grey horse was being held on a loose rein, contentedly grazing. Loanna was the bigger problem; she was very strict about how her horses were treated, and Mikleo had had to sit through a long enough lecture about the young horse before he could ride out and get things done.

He gave his coat one last tug to get it to settle in place before he nodded at the two of them. “Speak to anyone if you have any more trouble.”

“No chance of that.” The two of them tugged their forelocks. “If you’ve fixed it, it’s good as new. We’ll have the waiting orders ground up as fast as we can, nice and ready for tax day.”

Mikleo shook his head. “Considering the circumstances, we could discuss an extension.”

They were quick to shake their heads again. “No. We haven’t let down Lord Zenrus yet, and we don’t intend to now.”

Mikleo hesitated, his hands above his horse’s reins. “If you’re sure…”

When they didn’t respond, he took the reins, giving them a nod of his own. It was true that the family at the mill had never disappointed them, but Zenrus was fairer than that. He would pass the word along, and Zenrus would make up his own mind. Mikleo had no doubt that his grandfather would find a tactful way to give them a break and not make it sound like an insult.

He pulled his horse up from the grass, hopping up onto its back in one smooth movement. The horse danced under him, tossing its head now that there was something else to do other than graze. Mikleo sat out the fractiousness, taking the time to look around.

There wasn’t much by the mill. It was on the far edge of the town, where the river crooked back after traveling through Camlann. From there, it would carve a path through the mountains before spilling over into its bed in Hyland. Mikleo had followed the course of it on maps once with his fingers, walking it all the way to Hyland and into Ladylake. 

He turned his horse around, looking out towards the farmland that was on this side of the river. The fields ran all the way up to the hedge that marked the orchards of Elysia. Clustered on the less arable land were the farmer’s houses, the village that the town of Camlann hadn’t quite reached. Then again, Zenrus had made an effort to make sure that it stayed that way.

For a moment, he considered riding through the village to check on it, but the road along the river was calling to him, the gentle sound of the river moving calming him.

Mikleo clucked to the horse, sitting through another series of head tosses before the horse moved off at a bone jarring trot. Mikleo gritted his teeth and tried to adjust, wondering if Loanna’s choosing of this horse for him was punishment for something. The problem was he couldn’t remember what he had done. He had covered for her at least three times to allow her to avoid balls during the foaling season and he was always willing to take her horses out to exercise. He certainly hadn’t managed to insult his other sisters, or the three of them would have ganged up on him.

He sighed and pressed his leg more firmly against the horse, the animal snorting before evening out into a canter. Mikleo sighed in relief, letting the horse settle into its stride as he looked around.

Everything was out of bloom, easing into the hotter days of summer. Soon the nobles from Pendrago and Hyland would be making their way back to their country homes and Camlann would be busy with balls and visiting.

Mikleo winced at the thought, reaching forward to tangle his fingers in the horse’s mane. It was a little easier in the fall and winter, when most of the _ton_ returned to their town homes and Camlann didn’t bustle so much with the gentry.

The people of Camlann had mostly forgotten his indiscretion, but the rest of them hadn’t. Mikleo didn’t know why they liked to keep bringing it up, except maybe out of jealousy. After all, when the treaty had been signed and the mountains given their sovereignty, Zenrus had turned out to be the legal landowner of most of the new country, although his grandfather had never acted like it. With that much power and land, it was no wonder that some of the _ton _took great pleasure in going over old rumors.

The familiar flash of guilt and shame was back, Mikleo pushing it aside as he urged the horse faster. If it was feeling so spirited, then there was no reason he should hold it back. Loanna would want to see it put through its paces. Besides, he couldn’t linger on the past when he was galloping.

It certainly didn’t mean anything at all. Zenrus was not about to lose his standing after centuries looking after the small communities that had grown up through the mountains and the many family ties that he had built as the seraphim of Elysia had married into or made pacts with families.

It didn’t matter because Sorey would be coming back. 

It had been eight years, longer than he anticipated, but Sorey _would_ be back. He was sure of it, even if Sorey’s letters showed no such thing.

He bit his lip, clutching at the horse’s mane. What he wanted to do was urge the horse faster, but he didn’t dare, not when Loanna had stressed to take it easy. Mikleo held tight to his control, reveling in the freedom.

The spring had brought enough rain to set the river flooding and had kept him busy, either up at the house or along the edge of the river with the rest of the water seraphim, trying to redirect and contain the worst of the flood. There hadn’t been this, just himself and the open sky and nothing before him.

He let the horse have its head, losing himself in the rush of wind and the water from the river. The horse seemed to like it too, striding out smartly and effortlessly. Loanna had bred a good one, but no one expected anything less of her.

Mikleo let the horse gallop until they came to the first bridge into town. Reluctantly, he sat back, easing the horse to a trot despite the way it tossed its head and fussed. Mikleo sighed and sat out the sidling and bad manners before turning the horse’s head down a lane. This way, he could come out near to the stables and avoid any of the traffic on the road. He didn’t want to test the horse’s nerves on the bustle of the main road and bridge into Camlann. He didn’t want to be thrown off so close to the carriages, baggage carts and young people who were riding too fast on equally skittish horses.

He gritted his teeth as the horse pulled on his arms, bracing himself slightly against the tug until they were well away from the road. Only then did he let the reins out a fraction.

Mikleo was practically knocked backward as the horse surged forward. He wrestled the horse back into a canter, shaking his head at the way that horse bunched its muscles. He would have to watch this one.

He adjusted his hold on the reins, just trying to keep the horse to a canter as he wound his way through the lane. It sent him alongside the orchards and their hedge that protected it and up the small hill at the back.

He couldn’t stop himself from reining the horse in at the top, despite its protests. Mikleo twisted around to look back at the town, surprised to see a line of carts. Mikleo stood up in his stirrups, staring at it.

There were more carts than he expected to see and heading directly through town. Most of them crossed the main bridge but headed off to the far side of Camlann, taking the road up to great houses instead of through the town itself. That way they would avoid the cramped streets. Even the carts going up to Lord Bartlow’s estate took the long way along the river instead of daring to go through the town.

He watched the carts make their way through the streets before looking ahead. He couldn’t see much with the trees in full leaf, but he could at least see the tops of the town, and then the great house there.

Mikleo narrowed his eyes, looking at the gothic spires that he could see rising above the tree line. With that many carts, and the route that they were taking, it was very likely that they were going to Artorius’ Throne. He hummed to himself, leaning forward slightly. 

It was a strange choice to say the least, especially after all the grief that Praetor Artorius had caused Glenwood. The manor had been abandoned since Artorius’ titles and land had been stripped from him. Then, he had been exiled to Titania, where he died. No one was sure how, but there were always rumors of poison or those about a family member bent on revenge.

He frowned, sitting up again. If someone was moving in, then it meant that the Abbey had granted the position of Praetor to someone. Or that there had been some interesting dealing.

Mikleo clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, belatedly remembering the horse underneath him when it started forward. He scrambled for the reins, gathering them up as the horse cantered determinedly towards the stable yard. Mikleo sighed and settled into the seat, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the train of baggage. It looked like it was coming to an end, or at least he thought it was because he saw a person on a horse. Mikleo was too far away to pick out anything specific, just that the person was riding calmly behind the baggage train. Then again, it might not be related. 

If Artorius’ Throne was being let it would be to a Praetor or a Legate, or if it was not in the Abbey any longer, then it a member of the gentry. None of them would ride so comfortably behind a train of wagons.

He shook his head and focused on getting the horse down the hill safely. It kept ducking his head and trying to buck, Mikleo nudging it onward to keep it from trying. The horse snorted its annoyance and kept tossing its head, Mikleo settling for getting his shoulders pulled.

The horse managed to get a series of crow hops in at the bottom of the hill, but its heart wasn’t in it. It could see the paddocks and stables, and that was enough to distract it. Mikleo quickly wrestled the horse back into a walk, holding it there as they passed along the low stone wall that marked the yard and into the gate.

The horse’s sides belled out as it took a deep breath, its sides shaking as it whinnied. There were a few scattered answers, but most of the horses would be out. Loanna would be riding through her rotation, getting them ready for when the gentry come back out. A few of them would be very interested in what Loanna had bred while they were tucked away in their cities. It also meant that he could duck out from having to report how the horse did, at least for a little bit.

Mikleo pulled the horse up, slipping off of its back. Lawrence was quick to appear, bustling up to him and taking the reins before Mikleo could do anything.

He stared in shock and Lawrence let the horse away, Mikleo only coming back to himself when Lawrence let the horse into his stall. “I can get that.”

“Not today.” Lawrence stripped the saddle off of the back of the horse, slinging it over the front of the stall before making a shooing motion. “There’s a commotion going on inside of the house.”

Mikleo turned staring at Elysia with his stomach twisting. He brushed the front of his coat nervously. “What happened?”

There was a _thunk_ as Lawrence shot the bolt on the stall door, Mikleo turning to look back at him. Lawrence juggled the saddle and bridle, getting them both settled before he looked at Mikleo. “Nothing to worry about, but it has to do with Lord Zenrus and the rest of you.” Lawrence paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side. Mikleo saw a smile play across his face before the seraph shook his head. “I’d hurry, before they plan it all out without you.”

Mikleo gave Lawrence a startled look before taking off at a run. He heard Lawrence laugh behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was obviously late for whatever was going on, and he wanted to at least know what was happening. It might have something to do with the line of carts making their way up to Artorius’ Throne, or it might be something entirely different. In the deepest part of his heart, Mikleo wondering if it had anything to do with Sorey.

It had been eight years, longer than Michael had said it had taken to train as a Shepherd. Then again, Michael was from an earlier time, and he had been half trained going in. Mikleo didn’t have any other frames of reference. No Shepherd with the right family would be caught dead on a circuit. And Camlann was far enough away, and secure enough with their glut of seraphim, that the Abbey only needed to assign one Shepherd to the area, the Shepherd they wanted the farthest away.

There was every chance that this was something mundane, but his heart sung that it was Sorey.

He burst through a side door into the house, letting it slam shut behind him as he raced for the stairs from the kitchens. Mikleo clattered up them, twisting to the side as a seraph bustled through. He thought he heard her call his name, but he didn’t turn around. He was too busy jumping up the last two steps to get to the hallway. He rushed to the end, grabbing at the door and yanking it open.

Once he was on the first floor, he could hear raised voices, not shouting but in excitement. It was enough to speed him up, Mikleo practically sprinting the distance between the door and the parlor.

He caught himself on the doorway, hearing something on the door rattle on the other side, but it didn’t fall or break, and that was the important part. Mikleo leaned against the door frame, panting for breath as he looked into the room.

His four siblings were there, although they were spread all over the room. Natalie was the only one sitting down in her chair, but there was a smile on her face, although Mikleo couldn’t tell if it was because of the letter pressed against her chest or because of the way that Cynthia and Shiron were practically dancing around the room. Even Loanna was smiling and swaying in front of the fireplace. Mikleo looked back at the table, where the pile of mail was.

It might have been sorted at one point, but now it was all a mess, all the neat piles knocked over and four envelopes ripped and scattered. One of the seals on the back had come off and was on the floor, Mikleo frowning at the three-circle symbol of the Abbey.

He pushed away from the doorframe, walking over to pick it up. Mikleo rubbed his finger over it before looking at the mail. Sorey wouldn’t have sent anything with that seal. He would have just used a wafer. Mikleo turned the seal over in his hands, looking back at the pile of mail. If the other opened envelopes with the seal of the Abbey weren’t from Sorey, then a letter might still be in the rest of the mess.

Mikleo took a step forward, intending to start sorting through it all when Cynthia turned and spotted him. She beamed, skipping over to him and grabbing his arm. Mikleo found himself being spun around, Cynthia laughing in delight before she let him go. Mikleo stumbled a few steps away, just barely righting himself before he tripped on the table. He dropped the seal, reaching out to catch himself on the back of the chair as Cynthia skipped away again.

She circled around to try and tug Loanna into a spin, but their sister just skipped a few steps before breaking free. Cynthia didn’t seem to care, and went dancing back to Shiron. “Mikleo, we’ve gotten the best news!”

“The best?” Mikleo arched an eyebrow, looking over at Natalie.

She just smiled indulgently, finally dropping her hands into her lap. “Empyrean’s Throne has been let.”

“There’s a Praetor!”

Mikleo blinked at the information, thrown off by the official name of the manor. No one called it that in Camlann, or anywhere outside the mountains. Then again, he hadn’t dared go beyond where Kyme’s domain, so the old name could have been remembered in the cities.

He leaned against the chair, speaking to Natalie instead of trying to talk over Cynthia’s cheering. “I saw the baggage train going up to Artorius’ Throne.”

“Ah. That explains the date.” Natalie reached forward to take a piece of paper off of the table and pass it up to him.

Mikleo took it, feeling the weight of the paper. It felt expensive, Mikleo running his thumb over the grain before concentrating on the message. He tilted his head to the side, skimming over the finery and fanciness of the invitation. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t know the Praetor being placed in the manor. The time was what interested him, a ball two days from now.

He turned the card over, staring at the back before looking at the table. Three other invitations were arranged in the mess, which made sense. Once one had seen it, the others had rushed to find theirs. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone new moved into the neighborhood, especially a Praetor. Mikleo could just see the calculations.

A Praetor would bring people searching for favor, their own family, or their friends, which would mean new people and new balls.

Mikleo smiled to himself, turning the invitation back over before passing it back to Natalie. He paused just short, looking at the handwriting on the back of the letter in her lap. He recognized Mason’s scrawl, and a letter could mean good things. It might bring news that he had found a place to open up his own shop. Mikleo hoped that it was that, especially since the one in Camlann had fallen through.

Natalie had said that it was because everyone was unsure with the war and the possibility of becoming their own country. She had never said anything else. Mikleo didn’t know if it was because of willful ignorance or because she didn’t dare tell him, but the insecurity was only half of the story.

Mason was married to Natalie, his sister. In their minds, it was only logical that the malevolence that _he_ apparently had would spread to her, no matter how many times he was purified. Everyone knew he was ruined, and that kind of corruption didn’t purify easily.

He shook his head and stepped away from the chair. He almost didn’t want the answer to what the letter held. It was better not to know because then there was no disappointment.

Mikleo sighed and knelt on the floor, carefully sorting out the mess of letters. There still might be something from Sorey, it was about the right time for it.

He was stacking up the mail for Medea when he heard a huff from across the room. Mikleo turned his head, not surprised to see Shiron glaring at him.

His brother had stopped twirling with Cynthia, although she hadn’t seemed to notice that something was shifting. From the quick breath that he heard Natalie take, she recognized it. Mikleo didn’t bother to look over to Loanna, she would have seen it coming even before he or Natalie had.

Mikleo sorted through the letters in his hands, putting them into their piles. He reached for the next messy stack as Shiron stepped close enough for Mikleo to see his pants. It was tempting to look up at him, but Mikleo kept going. Looking would only encourage Shiron more. He had learned to ignore him; his younger sisters had not.

“It’s not going to be there.”

Mikleo squinted at a particularly messy direction before putting it in the pile to Zenrus. “What won’t?”

“Your invitation.”

“Shiron.” Loanna practically hissed his name. It was a warning that Mikleo knew that Shiron would ignore. He just took a bit longer to look at the envelope that he was holding, gathering himself together before going back to sorting.

As expected, his lack of a reaction was enough to get Shiron to huff and storm off. Mikleo turned the letters over in his hands before setting them down on the table. He ran his fingers through his hair, wincing when his fingers were stopped at the ribbon. He sighed and pulled his fingers free, careful to keep from picking at the fraying edges. Eight years was a long time for a ribbon, especially one worn nearly daily once his hair had started growing out, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to replace it. The shop in town had never offered the same green again.

Mikleo played with the loop of a bow before dropping his hand away completely. He heard one of his sisters sigh and looked up at them.

Loanna was glaring in the direction that Shiron had gone, while Cynthia just looked sad. She shot him an apologetic glance before sitting down on the nearest chair. She played with her skirts, biting her lip. Cynthia didn’t stop when they were neat, picking them over before finally taking a breath. “I just thought…it wouldn’t matter. Gramps got an invite for the family _and_ everyone in Elysia. And you still live here…”

She trailed off into a shrug. Mikleo smiled at her. “Thank you.”

Loanna huffed. “He’s just angry that you found out, even though no one cares anymore.”

“Loanna…”

She ignored Natalie, sticking out her tongue in the direction that Shiron had stormed off in before going to claim a chair. Loanna leaned over, flicking mud off of her boots until the sound of Natalie clearing her throat stopped her. Loanna slumped back in the chair, still looking angry.

Mikleo glanced at her before turning to look at Natalie. He thought about leaning his elbow on the table, but he was sure that he would get a disapproving look from his older sister. Instead, he just pulled the rest of the unsorted mail into his lap, shuffling them into a neat stack. “I’m used to it.”

“But you don’t have to be.” Loanna made a noise like she was disgusted, although she didn’t move from her chair. “It’s not like he can stop you in the first place.”

“No.” Mikleo dragged out the word a bit, before sighing. He glanced up at Natalie for help, giving up when he saw that she was reading her letter from Mason. He rubbed the back of his neck before twisting to look at Loanna. “But shouting won’t fix anything. He’s made up his mind.”

“But he’s wrong!”

“You can’t convince him that, so why let that ruin things?” Mikleo shrugged, pushing up from the table to stand. “You said that the family was invited, so I’d have to go, whether Shiron wanted me to or not.”

The rustle of skirts called his attention to Cynthia, Mikleo watching as she stood up. “Do you? Want to go, I mean?”

Mikleo tipped his head to the side. He knew what would happen when he went, it had been the steady pattern for the last eight years. Still, it was Artorius’ Throne. He had always wanted to see inside the old house, and this would be his chance. Mikleo couldn’t imagine that he would see it again, not with the rumors that were bound to go around. The people of Camlann were no longer aggressively avoiding him, but his youthful indiscretion was part of the gossip that made its way around whenever someone new came to the village..

He sighed, offering his sister a smile. “I do. I’m just as curious as you about who’s moving in.”

That was enough to get Cynthia smiling. “Two days isn’t much time, especially since today is half gone! Loanna! We need to find our dresses.”

Cynthia ran over to Loanna, practically hauling her to her feet before the two of them ran off into the house, giggling. Mikleo turned to listen to them go, looking up as he heard them running up the stairs. There was some shouting, probably the two of them spreading the news to whoever they had run into upstairs, before there was just the pounding of their footsteps.

Mikleo waited until he couldn’t the sound of their footsteps faded before he turned to look at Natalie. The letter from Mason was in her lap now, and she was staring at the fireplace with a frown.

He winced and went to kneel beside her, touching her arm. “Everything alright?”

Natalie nodded slowly, reaching up to push her bangs out of her face. “Yes, more of the same. He’s still looking, he’s heard of something in Lohgrin.”

“Lohgrin.” Mikleo swallowed, searching for words before settling on what had first come to his mind. “That’s far.”

“I know.” Natalie sighed. “I know. But it would be work, and that’s what he wants. He wants to be able to work his trade.”

His reasoning made sense, but Mikleo stomach still twisted at it. Natalie and Mason would be so far away. Elysia would feel different without the two of them. It felt different without Mason. At least when they were at Horsea it was a day’s journey to visit. Lohgrin was months.

He bit his lip, carefully bringing himself back in control. He didn’t manage it before Natalie reached out to rest a hand on his head.

His sister smiled down at him before ruffling his bangs. “Don’t look like that, not when you’ll be leaving as soon as Sorey gets back.”

“I know. But, Lohgrin.”

“It won’t be forever. We’ll be back. And you might come to visit us. I don’t think Sorey being a Shepherd will stop the two of you from traveling, no matter the posting.”

He gave her a shaky smile, getting to his feet as she did. Natalie carefully folded up the letter and put it in her apron pocket before stretching her arms over her head. She held them there for a moment, fixing him with a gleeful look. “But first, we have a ball to get ready for.”

Mikleo barely had time to react before she was grabbing his arm and towing him away, and then all he could do was laugh.

* * *

MIKLEO TURNED CAREFULLY WITH THE glasses in his hand, going still as a chain of laughing people went by him. Mikleo watched as they settled in with the rest of the dancers at the center of the ballroom. It looked like they were just on time, because the quartet had finished their quick break before launching into the next dance. Mikleo smiled when he saw some people hesitating. It was very clear who had come from the city and who was more familiar with the country dances.

The hesitation only lasted for a moment before the rest of the dancers swung into motion. Mikleo smiled to himself, slowing to look over the dancers.

Cynthia was the first that he spotted, as she was coming through the arch of linked hands. Mikleo’s smile wavered when he recognized the person that she was dancing with. 

The young woman was in the deep blue of the Blue Valkyries, Hyland’s elite military forces. But that was not what bothered him. Camlann had been far away from the war and Zenrus had protected them somewhat from the worst of it. It wasn’t even the military uniform. It was the fact that Cynthia was still dancing with the same officer from the start of the ball.

Mikleo frowned, hoping to catch her eye as she swung past, but his sister didn’t seem to be aware of anything but the woman she was arm-in-arm with. Mikleo bit his lip as he watched the two of them turn to make another arch. He wouldn’t be able to get to Cynthia before the end of the dance, but he would try. Dancing was all well and good, but that kind of focused attention was too much. Assumptions would be made, and those could ruin her.

He swallowed hard, trying to hold steady. He’d had his fair share of that and survived, but he had been younger, he’d had a fixed dream. His endgame had always been with Sorey, but Cynthia didn’t have anything like that. The world was wide open for her, and she would suffer if that door was shut forever.

Mikleo bit his lip before starting to nudge his way through the crowd. The dance would go on for a few minutes, and it would be better to get rid of the glasses in his hands before he attempted to talk with Cynthia. Natalie and Loanna would be waiting. He craned his neck, trying to spot them in the crush.

He’d left Natalie sitting by a group of matrons, all of them gossiping. Technically, Natalie was watching Loanna, but there wasn’t much to be worried about in that corner. Per usual, Loanna had found herself a group of like-minded individuals and had started talking horses. When Mikleo had left, she had rounded up a group of cavalry officers from Hyland, their pink dress coats standing out among the blue of the Blue Valkyries that were spaced out around the room. It was more than enough for Mikleo to suspect their next Praetor would be from Hyland.

Mikleo ducked his head and kept going, the crowd quickly parting for him. He felt the start of a smile cross his face, but he was quick to quash it. He was sure that no one would take it right, especially with the whispers that followed him. Thankfully, they were thinner than before. It was only the newer people that were being informed. Camlann was used to him, and more than happy to ignore him save for a muttered reminder and a slightly judgmental look. Those he could live with, because they only lasted as long as he lingered, and he didn’t intend to linger long.

He inched his way towards the wall, using the clearer bit of space to walk faster. Mikleo threw another glance at the dancers, watching as they broke up to go into the next figure. Cynthia and her partner were already moving away, Mikleo watching as they settled in, their attention not wavering from each other. He sighed when he saw the bright smile on Cynthia’s face. His sister loved balls, but not to that extent. That, he could probably blame on her partner. But, if he could see it, then everyone could.

Mikleo turned his attention away, looking over the next group of dancers. Shiron was there, chatting with both his partner and the dancer at his side. Mikleo felt a little better in that his brother’s attention was at least spread out. Then again, he never had to worry about Shiron.

It took a few more moments of edging through the crowd before he came to Natalie’s corner, Mikleo spotting Loanna and her bunch of officers first. She met his gaze soon after and extracted herself just enough to reach out and take the lemonade that he offered.

“Thank you.” She took a sip, using the moment to lean against him and going back to the officers, seamlessly sliding back into their conversation. Mikleo took a moment to watch the group of them, watching for impropriety before shaking his head. Natalie wouldn’t have allowed it. _Loanna_ wouldn’t have allowed it. She was safe enough for the moment.

Mikleo walked over to where Natalie sat, her group winnowed down to an elderly woman and a young man who has his leg stuck awkwardly and stiffly to one side. The man shifted as Mikleo came close, looking like he was scooting out of the way. It was only when Mikleo noticed how he took extra care with his ankle that he realized what had happened.

He gave the man a nod and a wide berth before sitting down next to Natalie and passing her the lemonade. Natalie smiled at him, fluttering her fan for a moment before folding it up and letting it drop on her lap.

Natalie sipped at her lemonade, savoring it possibly a little longer than proper. Then she reached out with her free hand to pat the chair next to her. “The others have gone dancing.”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t ask his question, because he knew the answer. Natalie wouldn’t dance, at least not until Mason came back. Not even one of the other seraphim from Elysia would tempt her. Still, he wasn’t worried, there were plenty of others who were sitting out entirely or taking a break between dances that she could talk to. As it was, she had a captive audience in the man sitting on the other side of her.

He smiled at his sister before crossing his legs and settling into a more comfortable position. He eyed the crowd before leaning close to Natalie, trying to keep their conversation between the two of them. “So, have you seen the Praetor yet?”

Natalie shook her head as she lowered her glass. “No. I’ve seen a Praetor and a Shepherd, but no one introducing themselves. My guess is that they’re waiting for the formal presentation.”

Mikleo swallowed, trying not to show the way that his heart pounded at the mention of a Shepherd. He scanned the crowd, hoping desperately for something. He hadn’t gotten a letter, but it might just be Sorey trying to surprise him.

He caught the flash of a white jacket, although it quickly turned out to be just that, none of the black curves and circles that would mark a Shepherd. Mikleo let out his breath slowly, slumping back in his seat for a moment before he remembered himself. Mikleo straightened up, looking down as Natalie rested a hand on his wrist.

“I’ll send word if I see him, but there’s been no news.” She gave him a sympathetic look before pulling away. “Enjoy yourself until then.”

Mikleo sighed, reaching back to play with the end of his ribbon. He scanned over the crowd, noting the rare few times that someone looked over at him with interest, but he ignored them. They were too new to either know the gossip or how things actually stood. His gaze drifted back to the dance floor and where Cynthia was enthralled by her partner.

He shifted in place, wishing that he could just let it slide, but he felt like he had to point it out. “Have you noticed Cynthia dancing with anyone else?”

“Once or twice.” Natalie was frowning now. “But rarely. Not enough. Do you think anyone will comment on it?”

“I hope not.”

“But you think they might.” Natalie sighed, playing with the fan in her lap.

“People talk.” Mikleo struggled to keep his voice level and low. Those same people were looking, and he didn’t want their attention drawn to Cynthia. He sighed and dropped his hand to his lap, listening as the music wound to an end. “We should tell her to change partners.”

From the expression on Natalie’s face, she didn’t like it. Mikleo didn’t either, because he remembered all too well the frustration of being told to dance with someone else. It was part of the reason that he had started avoiding balls altogether. It was an excuse to spend all the time that he wanted with Sorey without a chaperone or remembering the careful social dance that he was supposed to care about. It was enough to make him wonder why everyone was surprised when they had found out the truth about him and Sorey. They should have seen it coming for years.

The dance ended, the dancers turning breathlessly to clap for the quartet before dispersing. Mikleo sat up as Cynthia grabbed her partner’s hand and started to drag her over. Mikleo thought he saw the woman laugh before the two of them were rushing over a bit too quick to be seemly.

He shared a glance with Natalie before the two of them stood up. Mikleo noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, not surprised to see Loanna peeling away. What did surprise him was the officer that she had on her arm. The young man was blushing brightly, glancing between him and Loanna. Mikleo took a step to the side, not wanting to be drawn into that. It also offered him a better view of the room.

To his surprise, he saw Shiron heading their way. Apparently, his brother had parted amicably with his partner and was taking a break. Or, Mikleo restructured the thought after seeing Shiron’s face, he was coming to lecture Cynthia as well.

Mikleo took a quick breath, looking over at Natalie in the hopes that she had seen it too, but her angle wasn’t the best. She was just smiling at Cynthia like she meant to carefully let her down, which was for the better. Cynthia would react well to that as opposed to Shiron’s lecture on propriety.

He inched forward, focused on intercepting one of them when Cynthia put on a burst of speed. She practically skipped over to him, reaching out to grab his hand and tug him back to the others. Mikleo could hear her laughing the entire time, and he shot her partner a glance. It was a bit of a relief to see that the woman looked completely lost in Cynthia. At least whoever this was wasn’t playing with Cynthia and seemed just as enamored, but that didn’t make it less of a problem.

Mikleo carefully wiggled his wrist out of Cynthia’s grip, stepping to the side as his sister came to a stop in the half circle of their family. A tug had the woman stumbling into their midst.

The woman stood there for a moment before bowing to them, offering a neat leg, more than what Mikleo expected from a Blue Valkyrie. For all of their fame, they held firmly to their origins. They were pulled from the common people and rose on their own merit.

Cynthia allowed her just enough time to finish up her bow before hooking their arms together and smiling at the three of them. “This is Miss St. Clair. She’s been making this a lovely evening and I thought it was only fair that you met.”

On her part, Miss St. Clair looked nervous, but she snapped into something like attention. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard much about your family.”

Her accent was distinctly Hyland, although without the crisp elocution that Mikleo was used to from the gentry that spent most of the summer in the country. There were sounds that were slurred together and letters dropped in unexpected places, and it made him relax. This wasn’t someone who would demand to know Cynthia’s accomplishments and what portion of Elysia or their new country she would get. This was someone who would appreciate his sister for herself, which meant that she would be kept in the family for years instead of being cast aside for the next up and coming seraph.

Mikleo sighed and returned the bow, coming up as he heard Cynthia call for Shiron. He looked up at his brother, seeing the curl of his lip. But Shiron didn’t have long to cast his judgement because the quartet was starting up again.

Cynthia turned in the direction of the sound, Mikleo seeing how her arm tightened around Miss St. Clair’s. What was more interesting is the way that Miss St. Clair’s hand reached to rest over Cynthia’s. The woman might have still been breathing heavily after who knew how many dances, but she seemed ready to get back to another one. Eager even.

He shifted in place, glancing over at Natalie. Thankfully, his sister seemed to understand, because she started forward. “Cynthia…”

She didn’t get to finish before Loanna was stepping away from her officer and neatly snatching Mis. St. Clair away from Cynthia. Cynthia turned, Mikleo seeing the protest forming on her lips, but then Loanna was batting her eyelashes. “Cynthia, you’ve got to share. After all, you’ve had Miss St. Clair’s company all evening and we haven’t. Give us a chance to talk since the two of you seem to be such good friends now. And I’m sure Lieutenant Wycliff wouldn’t mind taking his turn, especially since I’ve kept him here all even rambling on about horses.”

Lieutenant Wycliff colored, and ducked his head. Mikleo thought he heard something like a rebuttal, but the man quickly remembered himself and held out of his hand. “If you would care to, miss?”

Cynthia looked him over before blushing and taking his hand. Mikleo took that to mean that she was at least thinking about what she had been doing, although he wasn’t sure with the way that she kept giving Miss St. Clair longing glances. Still, it was a different partner, at least for one dance. Maybe more if Loanna kept up her questioning. If that was the case, then he might have to try and convince Natalie to dance, if only to save Miss St. Clair from Loanna.

He watched as the two pairs got into position, only looking away when he heard Shiron huff. Mikleo threw his brother a quick glance, watching as Shiron rolled his shoulders.

If Shiron felt his gaze, he didn’t show it. He just crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. Then he leaned closer to Natalie. “Good, people were starting to talk.”

“People always do.” Natalie sounded perfect calm, although her eyes flicked back to Mikleo. There was a lecture there waiting to happen, Mikleo could feel it.

Shiron, however, seemed oblivious to it all. He just hummed to himself before turning his attention to the officer from Loanna’s group that had turned towards him. The officer made his bow. “Would you care to dance?”

Shiron let the question hang for just the right amount of time before blushing and nodding. He took the officer’s arm and allowed himself to be led to the dance floor.

It was all prettily done, and Mikleo couldn’t help suspect it was all an act. He watched the two of them for a moment before stepping over to her. “Is Shiron trying a bit harder this time around?”

Natalie narrowed her eyes, but he didn’t get a response. Mikleo almost didn’t expect one. It was something the two of them would watch.

Of course, it made sense that Shiron would have his eye out for someone, Mikleo didn’t expect him to spend his whole life in Camlann. Besides, Shiron had been out for a few seasons, more than enough to catch someone’s eye. But Camlann was small and not many people had use for a seraph that would possibly remain in the family for centuries. Maybe Mikleo could convince Natalie to take Shiron to Lohgrin or for Zenrus to take him somewhere before he began to feel rushed.

Mikleo was startled out of his thoughts when he heard someone clearing his throat. Mikleo turned, surprised to see another one of the officers waiting for him.

The officer hesitated for a moment before seeming to remember himself, Mikleo watching with a mix of amusement and growing horror as the officer stumbled through his question.

“W-would you…if you are free…and if…I mean…I was hoping that…that you w-would d-dance with me?”

Mikleo blinked, trying to process through the question. He stared down at the hand offered to him and felt something in his stomach twist.

He hadn’t danced for so long, not since he and Sorey had been separated. He had loved it well enough before, but that might have been because it had been with Sorey. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t tempted. After all, this was someone offering without any comments or excuses. Mikleo wasn’t even sure if the officer knew about the scandal, and he almost didn’t want to tell.

He took a deep breath, tempted to look at his sister to see what her answer to be, but he wasn’t sure that it would help. It was a question of what it meant for him and his promise to Sorey. One dance did not an engagement make, and he had certainly danced with others when Sorey had been in Camlann.

He found himself reaching out before he had made a decision. Mikleo stared at his hand, fully expecting it to belong to someone else, but that was his hand. And he found he desperately wanted something more than another evening spent on the far edges of the ball.

Mikleo smiled at the officer, stepping forward only to hear a sharp bark of laughter. He turned to look, watching as Shiron hesitated on the edge on the dance floor.

“Oh no, my brother doesn’t dance.” Mikleo looked up at Shiron, watching his brother’s nod, like this was something they had agreed upon before.

The officer made a soft sound of understanding, bowing to Mikleo before moving away. Mikleo didn’t bother to watch him go, instead narrowing his eyes at Shiron.

His brother just shrugged. “Well, you don’t.”

That seemed to be the last word on the subject because he turned to rush into the dance with his partner.

Mikleo took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. It shook in the way out, Mikleo feeling the anger in it. What he wanted to do was to storm up to Shiron and demand something of him, but the music was already starting and the words were stuck in an angry twist at the back of his throat. The problem was, he couldn’t tell what he was angrier about, Shiron’s casual dismissal or himself. The former made sense, but the latter was ridiculous. A dance would betray nothing, but it made him ache.

He took another deep breath, feeling Natalie rest her hand on his shoulder. She squeezed it, Mikleo sure that she was going to say something to try and help, it was what she always did.

Mikleo reached back to pat her hand, holding onto it for a moment before stepping away. There were too many people and the ballroom was too cramped. He didn’t want to be so close to people anymore, not when he felt sure that he knew just what they were thinking. Besides, he didn’t think that he could stand any other offers to dance. It was almost enough to make him wish that it wasn’t a ball to welcome a new Praetor, but just one of the usual ones, because he would be left alone.

“I’m just going to step outside.”

He turned in time to see his sister give him a tight nod, which was all he needed. Mikleo lingered behind long enough to bow to the man and elderly lady before pushing his way through the crowd. 

As before, they gave way easily, Mikleo relieved that no one stopped him. From what he could see, they were all too busy trying to figure out who would be the next Praetor. He heard names bandied about, but none that he recognized. Mikleo threw one glance in the direction of a knot of people, not surprised to see a woman in the black and white of a Shepherd. What was more surprising was the wind seraph standing at her shoulder. For a moment, he thought the seraph’s attention went to him, then it was slipping away as he edged away from the Praetor in white, blue and gold next to him.

Mikleo looked over the man’s uniform before huffing. There was every chance that that was their Praetor, but he wouldn’t know until the more formal presentation, although just when that was he didn’t know. One of his siblings would get him if he was still hiding outside. It was enough to make Mikleo wish that he knew where the library in the house was. He could hide himself in there and read until it was about the time that they should go.

He sighed and combed his fingers through his bangs, stopping short of running them through his hair. It had been a long while since he had felt like this, knocked sideways and out of sorts. He flexed his fingers before taking a sharp turn.

It was a relief when he heard the sounds of the party starting to fade away. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get the tension that had been gathering in his shoulders to relax. Even still, there was too much of it, Mikleo hearing a burst of laughter and something that sounded like a sharp gasp, more than enough to get him to keep moving towards the light breeze that he felt and the faint sense of water.

The doors to the back porch and garden were open, Mikleo rushing through them to take a deep breath of air that didn’t smell of perfume and sweat. Mikleo held his breath for a long moment before letting it out and taking another one. This was something that he preferred, the scent of the garden, all flowers, trees and water. The rest of the tension in him unwound, Mikleo giving up on the proper posture that he had been drilled in to slump just a little bit.

There weren’t too many people out, Mikleo assuming that they were further back in the garden or crowding into the ballroom. It left him completely on his own for the first time in hours. Mikleo reached back to play with the end of his ribbon before stepping to the side and out of the immediate line of sight of the doors. He didn’t want to take any chance that anyone would talk to him, at least not until he was ready.

Mikleo reached out to touch the leaves on a plant in an ornate pot before stepping forward to lean his elbows on the railing. From there it was easy to see the garden laid out in neat rows.

Mikleo tipped his head to the side, humming to himself. The garden looked good despite being abandoned for so long. It meant that someone had been out here fixing the gardens. This had been planned for some time then. Mikleo was sure that the Praetor themselves was the only new thing about this. He drummed his fingers on the railing before smoothing them out. He was almost curious about the garden. He could feel water, which meant that there was a fountain. He could get himself good and lost and…

He ducked his head with a sigh. He wasn’t fifteen anymore, he couldn’t just wander away, no matter how much he wanted to. Mikleo huffed and settled for listening to the distant water, trying to trace it as it rose and fell.

He was just getting the shape of it when he heard the sound of someone walking up behind him. Mikleo tensed, jerking away his attention from the water running through the pipes. He lifted his head slightly, hesitating for a moment. It wasn’t a seraph, he couldn’t feel that aura of power that followed all seraphim around, which meant that it couldn’t be one of his siblings.

Mikleo ducked his head, listening as the human kept approaching. That definitely meant that his hideaway had been spotted. He pushed himself away from the railing, about to excuse himself as politely as he could manage. He would have to stand with his family when the Praetor finally decided to introduce themselves, that was all the scrutiny that he could bear. Nor did he want someone trailing after him, trying to get his attention. Any urge to dance had quickly died. He just wanted to wander into the gardens and forget the ball.

He curled his hand on the stone railing, taking a deep breath when the other person spoke.

“Mikleo.”

Mikleo froze at the sound of his name. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the voice, but something about the tone was very familiar, the softness of it. It was in the way his name was said, like it was something precious beyond all measure. There was only one person that had ever said his name like that, even if the voice wasn’t the same.

He spun around, his eyes widening at the man who stood there. The face had lost some of its boyish chubbiness, but the eyes were just the same, as was the smile, and everything that mattered.

Mikleo swayed back against the railing, trusting it to keep him upright when it felt like he was going to fall. He must have actually started to tip, because the man rushed up to him. Then there was nothing for him to do but reach out for him, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders as he breathed out.

“Sorey.”

He didn’t get the chance to say more before Sorey was pressing him back against the railing. Mikleo didn’t reach back to catch himself, letting himself be steadied between the stone and Sorey’s body. It was more important to reach up to run his fingers over the planes of Sorey’s face, tracing out what was familiar and what was not. It also gave him the chance to make sure that this was real, not one of his dreams. But Sorey was solid beneath his fingers, and he was already smiling. Mikleo couldn’t help but smile back, sliding his hands to the back of Sorey’s head to draw him a little closer.

There was something right about the moment when Sorey’s forehead rested against his own, the feeling of something slotting definitely into place that had been missing for the past eight years. Mikleo sighed, hearing and feeling Sorey do the same before the human practically melted against him. Mikleo laughed, quickly quieting himself down when he heard Sorey speak again. It didn’t matter if it was just his name over and over, he needed to hear it.

He combed his fingers through Sorey’s hair, answering every soft whisper with one of his own until Sorey seemed to gather himself together. Mikleo was glad of that, because he had yet to manage it.

Sorey was _here_ after eight years of nothing but letters and his own memories.

He closed his eyes, leaning more into Sorey as he heard and felt a chuckle rumble through him. “I thought I saw you. I had almost convinced myself it was a dream. You look elegant.”

Mikleo opened one eye, huffing at the mischievous expression on Sorey’s face. He wanted to poke Sorey in the side for that, but it would mean letting go, and he was not ready for that. It was better to just run his hands through Sorey’s hair, the familiar motion grounding him. It felt like he was coming down to earth for the first time in a long time, so long that he hadn’t noticed that he had been drifting.

He took a deep breath, leaning back just enough to look over Sorey. Sorey looked much the same, but with small differences. Sorey had always been broader than him, but he had been stuck in lanky boyhood. In the eight years he had been gone, he had grown into himself. Mikleo could feel it in the spread of his shoulders, and the way that everything looked more balanced, less like a bandy-legged foal.

Mikleo breathed out, letting his hands drop to Sorey’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure how tall Sorey was now, he hadn’t been thinking about it when he had first turned around, nor could he tell from the way that he was leaning back on the railing. The thought was an idle curiosity that flitted away as fast as it had entered his head.

He curled his fingers into the fabric of Sorey’s jacket, his gaze drifting down to it. Mikleo went still, his fingers tracing over a curve of the black design on the white coat. “A Shepherd.”

Sorey beamed at him. “I told you I would be.”

“I never doubted it.” Mikleo chuckled, dragging his hand down so it was resting over Sorey’s heart. Sorey was quick to hold it there, Mikleo shivering at the touch. It was muffled by their gloves, but taking them off would take far too long and Mikleo didn’t have the patience for it. The steady thump of Sorey’s heart was more than enough for him.

Mikleo went limp against the railing, contentment washing over him. He reached up with his other hand to cup Sorey’s cheek. “You’re back.”

Sorey turned his head, brushing his lips across Mikleo’s palm. He didn’t bother to move his head while he talked, his lips brushing against Mikleo’s palm. “Of course. I promised I would be.”

“It took eight years.”

A pained look flashed across Sorey’s face, Mikleo scooting closer to get a good hold on him. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here.”

“It should.” Sorey hesitated for a moment before sighing. Mikleo shivered at the breath that ghosted across his palm, distantly aware that his mouth hung open slightly. He had forgotten how it had felt, and he was baffled by it. He had forgotten.

It took effort to pay attention to what Sorey was saying instead of the sound of his voice, Mikleo unable to stop a soft hum from escaping. Sorey seemed to take it in stride, continuing to nuzzle into his palm. “It took longer than I thought, and I _missed _you. Every day.”

“So did I.”

“I was tempted to come and get you.” Sorey’s gaze flicked up to him for a moment, Sorey watching him closely before pressing another kiss to his palm. He shifted, going back to resting their foreheads together. “When I was a Squire I thought about it, about riding back and taking you with me.”

Mikleo felt a shiver of excitement and regret. If that had happened, he wouldn’t have said no, and damn the consequences. He wouldn’t be strong enough to let Sorey walk away again. As it was, the slight sway of Sorey’s body away from him was almost too much.

He made a desperate grab at Sorey’s shoulders, shifting when he thought Sorey was pulling away. He straightened up slightly, hoping to pull Sorey closer. But Sorey wasn’t moving away, he was shifting closer, and Mikleo was moving before he could really think through what he was doing. He tipped his chin up when Sorey seemed to realize what he was going for.

He shivered when he felt Sorey’s hands card through his hair a moment before their lips met.

Mikleo shuddered at the sensation, lasting a moment before gasping. That was enough to encourage Sorey to kiss him deeper, not that Mikleo would have stopped him. A brush of lips wasn’t enough, he wanted more. Mikleo reached up to grab the back of Sorey’s hair, hearing him make a muffled groan.

He responded with his own, tugging Sorey closer before giving up. It wasn’t close enough, Mikleo didn’t think that armatization would be close enough. The best he could do was hitch his leg up over Sorey’s hip, trying to tug Sorey closer that way. It was a momentary solution, at least until he could haul Sorey somewhere and get as close as they could. Eight years was too much to be without this.

Mikleo pulled himself upwards, clawing at Sorey’s coat, hoping that Sorey would get the message. He felt Sorey groan into the kiss, Mikleo smiling. He remembered the sound, it meant surrender and all the sweetness that came with it. It would be all the sweeter after eight years apart.

His slid his fingers into Sorey’s hair, leaning up in him only for Sorey to start pushing away. Mikleo whined, catching Sorey’s bottom lip gently between his teeth. It made Sorey pause and shudder, but he still pulled away. Thankfully, it wasn’t far, Sorey going back to resting his forehead against Mikleo’s. Mikleo shuddered at the sigh he heard and felt through Sorey. He curled his fingers into Sorey’s hair, hoping that it would encourage Sorey to kiss him again. As it was, Sorey was practically rocking in place.

Mikleo whimpered as Sorey pressed up against his erection, not quite able to stop himself from rocking up. For a moment, Sorey seemed to forget himself and ground against him. Mikleo let his head fall back, smiling when Sorey leaned forward to run his hand through Mikleo’s hair.

“Sorey…”

To his disappointment, the sound of Sorey’s name seemed to make him remember himself. He groaned and pushed himself away. Mikleo whined and scrambled for him, finally settling for almost sitting on the railing and being in a loose hold. It wasn’t as close as he wanted, but it was better than nothing. Certainly, better than Sorey walking away. He shivered and clutched at Sorey, a little relieved when Sorey just smoothed a hand down his back.

That was enough to make him relax, because it wasn’t rejection. It couldn’t be with the way that Sorey was looking at him, or the way that Sorey was still softly stroking the side of his neck. Mikleo shivered and leaned into the touch, sighing as it calmed him down. He let his eyes flutter shut, smiling when he heard Sorey laugh. He had missed that sound, maybe more than the sound of his name on Sorey’s lips.

He must have sighed out Sorey’s name because Sorey rocked forward before he remembered himself. “You can’t just say my name like that.”

“Too much encouragement?” He opened an eye, watching Sorey’s face. There wasn’t a blush on his cheeks, but Mikleo was sure it was rising on the back of his neck. Mikleo dropped his hand, dragging his fingers across the back of Sorey’s neck to chase the blush. He traced idle circles there, watching him tense for a moment before he melted against him.

They shifted until they were almost kissing, Mikleo’s smile widening when Sorey stayed like that. He tipped his head to brush his lips against Sorey’s, feeling the puff of air across his lips as Sorey huffed.

“I don’t want this to be quick. I want to have time to spend on you, not just rushing in a garden.”

Mikleo chuckled, his hand dropping to the nape of Sorey’s neck and going still. “We’re a bit too old for that.”

“Maybe a bit, or just in moderation.”

“Moderation.” Mikleo echoed the word before shaking his head. It didn’t have the same effect, not when it meant that he was just brushing his nose against Sorey’s. “Not something you were good at if I remember.”

“It’s been eight years. I could have matured.”

“Did you?”

Mikleo got the feeling that Sorey was pouting, although he couldn’t see all of his expression. He let Sorey pout for a moment before leaning up to kiss him again.

Sorey didn’t argue against the kiss, instead sinking into him again. The kiss didn’t get heated, but stayed soft, which was just as good. Sorey wasn’t leaving, and that was all he needed.

Mikleo let his eyes slip closed, losing himself in the kiss, feeling something finally settle into place. He had gotten used to the longing, so much so that he had forgotten what he was like without it hanging on him. It felt like he was about to drift away, and would have if Sorey wasn’t there to hold him down. He smiled to himself, feeling Sorey’s lips curve in response. A hum rumbled up through Sorey’s chest, a sure question that Mikleo could answer, except that he didn’t want to at the moment. It could wait until Sorey next needed to breathe, and maybe later. Right now, he wanted to sate himself on Sorey’s presence and soft kisses.

He didn’t know how long he was allowed the small moment of bliss, but he knew that it wasn’t long enough. The sound of someone clearing their throat came from over Sorey’s shoulder, Mikleo jerking back slightly and clutching at Sorey.

He stared up at Sorey, watching as Sorey went tense and then hunched over him. It was a relief that Sorey wasn’t pulling away, because Mikleo wasn’t sure what he would have done then. He didn’t want a repeat of that night in the woods, he didn’t want to have Sorey torn away from him again. Mikleo curled his fingers in Sorey’s jacket, not sure if he wanted to send a spray of cold water towards the sound or pull Sorey over the railing.

The decision was taken from them when the person cleared their throat again, the sound accompanied by what sounded like knocking on the door frame. “Sorey?”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow at the sound of a female voice, looking over at Sorey. Sorey tipped his head to the side before giving Mikleo an apologetic look. “Rose.”

If there was more of an explanation, it was cut off when Rose spoke up from where she was standing. “Listen, we need to find our wayward Praetor and get the official stuff over with so this damn pain in the ass can stop lecturing me on proper manners.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come out from there, I’m going to _drag_ you out of there.”

Mikleo glared past Sorey’s shoulder, tempted to make Rose actually carry out her threat. It would be easy enough to jump over the railing and pull Sorey with him.

He dragged his gaze back to Sorey, pouting at him. It must have worked somewhat because Sorey sighed and dropped his head to Mikleo’s shoulder. Sorey squeezed him hard for a moment before letting go with a sigh. “I’d better go.”

Mikleo stared at him, before clinging more tightly. “Must you?”

Sorey smiled and kissed the tip of Mikleo’s nose. He was too fast for Mikleo to try and get him back into a proper kiss, already pulling away. Mikleo pushed himself off of the railing, reaching out to take Sorey’s hand. It was natural that their fingers twined together, Mikleo squeezing tight in the hopes that it would keep Sorey by his side. From the way that Sorey swayed back towards him, it was almost enough. Then he sighed and glanced back towards the door. “Rose will come and drag me out there.”

Mikleo tipped her chin up. “Let her try.”

Sorey huffed out a laugh, leaning in close to brush a kiss across Mikleo’s forehead. Mikleo leaned into it, his eyes closing when he heard Sorey sigh. “I want to do this right, Mikleo, so no one can argue with it.”

Mikleo bit his lip, defiance quick to come first, because he didn’t care. Those same people had been the ones to disapprove the first time, and they certainly wouldn’t approve now, Shepherd or not. Mikleo was a seraph with a flawed reputation, and that wouldn’t ever be acceptable. And then there was Sorey. Mikleo looked Sorey up and down. There was no question that he was a Shepherd, but it was where he would be positioned. After all, they were talking about the Praetor like it wasn’t Sorey, which made his stomach swoop.

Sorey had more than enough resonance to be a Praetor, he had enough skill even if he didn’t have the name to back it. A Shepherd was still good, a Shepherd could still have a permanent post in a city. Or he could be on a circuit, which was where the Shepherds that the Abbey didn’t want went, like Michael, who was from nowhere and didn’t bother to give the Abbey their proper deference.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of Sorey’s hand, looking up at him. The question on the tip of his tongue when he saw movement by the door. Mikleo tensed, starting to tug Sorey behind him when Sorey turned to look at him. “I have to go, just until the official greeting is over. After that, I’m yours alone.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Mikleo grumbled, but he let go of Sorey’s hand. He watched as Sorey flexed it, sure that he was doing the same to chase the warmth still lingering there. He curled his fingers in, holding onto the warmth. It was everything after eight years.

He looked up as he heard voices at the door, Sorey and Rose having a conversation that he half heard, but paid no attention to. Instead, he held himself in place, listening to the sound of Sorey and Rose walking away instead of rushing after them. The porch was safe, it was hidden and they could act as they liked, but a moment with Sorey was not enough for him to forget the way that hostile eyes felt.

Sorey had a point when he said that he had wanted to do it right.

Mikleo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting to himself as he waited for Sorey to get a good distance away. This was something that he would have to relearn, how to take the distance with a smile and wait for their small moments. It had been a hard lesson the first time, but Mikleo was a fast learner. He would get it this time around, at least until they got their chance.

He took one more deep breath to steady himself, reaching back to check on the ribbon holding his hair in place. Mikleo played with a frayed end, allowing himself only a moment more of hesitation before striding back into the house.

The hallways were empty, even of the few people that he had seen before. But he could hear where they had gone, the sound of people talking a dull roar from the ballroom.

It was enough to get Mikleo to slow. He stared at the grand doors that led to the ballroom, the two of them propped open so he could see the crush inside. Everyone who had taken the chance to wander through the closed house had hurried back, eager to see the new Praetor. It was such a crowd that Mikleo was sure that he could have been missed. He might have been expected to greet the Praetor with his grandfather and siblings, but he had stayed in the background for so long he was sure that no one would comment.

But there would be some people who noticed that he wasn’t there, and Sorey was waiting.

Mikleo squared his shoulders and strode into the ballroom, relieved that the crowd was quick to notice him and part. As long as he didn’t look at the hands snatching away skirts or people trying to cram into a smaller space, he was fine. 

He scanned the crowd, not seeing his family until he was halfway across the room, and only then because Loanna was practically bouncing in place, her green hair standing out in a group of drab coated people. Probably members of the Rolance _ton_. They seemed to have reacted to the years of wearing bright red for their country by going in the completely opposite direction.

He gave the nearest one a quick look before sliding through the last of the crowd. He reached out for Loanna, squeezing her hand as he was tugged in with the rest of them.

She tucked her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Where have you been?”

“Outside.” Mikleo was surprised that he managed to keep his voice steady. “I needed the air.”

“I don’t blame you.” Loanna wrinkled her nose. “It’s getting stuffy in here.”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow as she cast a despairing look around the room. He couldn’t see any of the officers in their pink coats, which meant that they had found others to occupy themselves with. Talking about horses would have only held their attention for so long with other beauties to distract them.

He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorrier for you. You have to be dragged out there and stared at.”

“I’m used to it.” Mikleo felt her squeeze back, almost to the point of pain. He braced himself against it, letting her cling as he looked around.

Beside them, Cynthia was practically bouncing in place, Mikleo catching her gaze for a moment. He gave his head a slight shake, sure that she missed it entirely because she went back to her bouncing, but only for a moment longer. Shiron quickly reached out and rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. Mikleo tensed, ready to interfere in any argument that would come up when Shiron just nudged Cynthia in his direction, reaching out to tug Loanna away from him.

Loanna started to protest, but Shiron cut her off with a hiss. “Get in order.”

Loanna stuck out her tongue at him before looping her arm through Cynthia’s and tugging her into place behind Shiron. Mikleo heard the start of a conversation between the two of them, but he didn’t get to listen long. Shiron stepped between him and them, leveling the far too familiar disapproving glare. Mikleo ignored it, studying Cynthia. Despite her chastisement, she was still looking for someone. Mikleo was sure that she had snuck another dance in with her officer after he had left.

He watched the two of them for a moment more before turning back to look at the crowd. He could see movement on the other side of the ballroom, something that was slowly quieting the muttering as it approached them. Mikleo tipped his head to the side, watching as Zenrus drew himself up, his hand moving to pat Natalie’s. Mikleo couldn’t see her response, but his sister seemed as calm as ever.

Mikleo shifted in place, ignoring Shiron’s hissed warning. No one was paying attention to them, and no one would until they started moving. And then they would focus on him once they realized that Sorey was there. Mikleo licked his lips, just barely keeping himself in place. He wanted to see Sorey again, to actually look at him instead of holding him close. Mikleo was sure that Sorey would look handsome in his black and white coat, but he wanted to know that for sure. Years of imaginings couldn’t be better than the real thing.

He wiped his palm against his pants, his fingers curling into the fabric as the ballroom went silent.

Mikleo only had a moment to adjust before Zenrus was moving forward. He stumbled into motion before Shiron could remind him to move, staying behind his grandfather. But it didn’t grant him the same protection as it had when he was younger and smaller. He could easily see over Zenrus’ head and towards the five people approaching.

Mikleo’s gaze flicked over to Sorey, the nervousness becoming bearable at the small smile that he was given. It was what they had always done before, but the distance had never been there. Usually Sorey was close, hanging at the front of the crowd and by his side, not on the other side. 

He took a deep breath, hearing Shiron do the same behind him. For a moment, he thought that he felt someone grab onto the back of his jacket, but then they were fanning out and making their bow.

He was distantly aware of some shuffling on the end of the line, but he kept his gaze fixed at the ground, at least for the moment. It was enough, because he could feel the warmth of Sorey’s gaze on him. And that was the only thing that kept him in place with the low muttering that he was hearing around the room.

It might not have been about the two of them, there were plenty of other things to whisper about, but Mikleo couldn’t quite quell the old fear.

He swallowed and stood up, meeting Sorey’s gaze. He didn’t bother to hide his smile, tipping his head slightly. Sorey returned the favor, although his attention didn’t stay.

Mikleo glanced over at the woman beside Sorey as she cleared her throat, stepping forward just before the man in the Praetor’s white, blue and gold. The man sputtered, even going so far as to turn to address the seraph that was standing by the woman’s right shoulder, but he was promptly ignored. The seraph even went so far as to shove the man a little bit back, earning more sputtering that the woman immediately spoke over.

“Lord Zenrus, a pleasure.”

Mikleo blinked at the familiar voice, recognizing Rose from the patio. He stared at her, waiting to see some flicker of recognition, but there was none. She just turned slightly so that she looked like she was addressing Zenrus and the crowd. “I thank you for welcoming all of us to your town, even though you were only expecting the new Praetor.”

Mikleo’s gaze flicked over to the Praetor in the group, watching as he continued to turn red, obviously annoyed by a Shepherd taking his spotlight. It was nothing more than Mikleo expected, but he also found himself desperately hoping that the man was just part of the visiting group. He eyed the man, surprised when the man returned with his own appraising look.

Mikleo immediately looked down at the Praetor’s hand, feeling uneasy about the lack of a ring, either in gold or in the color that matched his seraph. So, he was unattached, and staring.

Mikleo jerked his gaze away, intending to look back at Sorey, or even Rose and her seraph, but his attention caught on someone pushing up from the back of the group. The woman was tugging on a coat in a Praetor’s blue, white and gold, and the change was enough to confound Mikleo for a moment, until he heard Cynthia gasp. It was only when the woman was tugging her coat in place and joining the others that Mikleo recognized the officer that Cynthia had spent the evening dancing with.

Rose smiled at her, leaning over to bump shoulders with the woman before turning back to Zenrus. “Lord Zenrus, it’s my honor to present the Praetor for Camlann, Clem St. Clair.”

Mikleo immediately turned to look down the line at his siblings, watching as Loanna tugged Cynthia closer, although he couldn’t imagine what she would do. Cynthia just seemed to be content to smile brightly. Mikleo dragged his gaze back over to the woman, watching as the smile was returned, and he felt his stomach sour.

There was something there, a first flash of attraction that was so clear. And it frightened him.

Cynthia was headstrong, that was clear enough by her refusal to abide by the rules. She and the Praetor had already spent most of the evening dancing together in full view of everyone. The whole town would be talking about that. And now this, when the two of them were paying obvious attention to each other. It wasn’t the right way to go about things, at least by what everyone else thought. And the problem was that Cynthia didn’t care.

He bit his lip, looking back over at Sorey. He didn’t think Sorey had seen anything, which almost made things worse. They were already the talk of the town, and would be again now that Sorey was back. No matter how properly they courted now, there would always be talk. If Clem was assigned to Camlann, then she wouldn’t be able to go away and give the two of them breathing room like Sorey had. The two of them would have to act carefully if they didn’t want a whiff of scandal hanging around. Something like that could lose Cynthia everything that mattered to her. It could lose Clem her position. And Mikleo could give anything to make sure that his sister never suffered what he had.

Mikleo dragged his gaze back over to Sorey, hating the bone deep longing that he felt. Sorey was right there, but he had lived without Sorey by his side for eight years. He could survive the weeks that it took for a proper courtship, he had to or else everything would fall apart for the rest of his family. If he didn’t, then centuries might be enough to get the humans to forget, but Mikleo wasn’t sure that his siblings would, and he would do anything to keep them from knowing the pain of having everyone turn against them.

He shifted in place, giving Sorey one last glance. The smile was slipping from Sorey’s face, replaced quickly with realization and then disappointment. Mikleo was relieved when Sorey turned to look at him, wishing that the two of them could steal away and talk again, but the time for that was gone.

Mikleo tucked his hands behind his back, curling his fingers together as he tried to chase after the warmth of Sorey’s hand in his. He wanted to savor that warmth, because he was sure that it would be a while before he could have that to himself again.

* * *

THE FOUNTAINS BUBBLED AWAY MERRILY, which was the exact opposite of Mikleo’s mood. He shot them a glare, tempted to just wave them silent for the time being. His head was pounding from a headache brought on by a late night and the tension that hadn’t left since the ball. Mikleo could feel it in his shoulders and along his jaw.

He reached up to rub at the join of his jaw, chilling his fingers to try and help the ache there. It didn’t help, Mikleo giving up a moment later and dropping his hand down with a sigh.

He turned his head to look at his desk, the surface piled high with the books that he had picked up and put down over the course of the night to try and distract himself. None of them had helped distract him from the two problems at hand. For one, there was Cynthia’s behavior with Praetor St. Clair. That was clear intent of courtship, which could do well if the Praetor herself was serious. But they didn’t know the Praetor at all.

Mikleo rolled to his side, reaching out to flick at the water in one of the fountains. He watched as it hung frozen in the air for a moment before dropping away. It didn’t quite help the uneasiness that he felt.

There had been other courtships that had come and gone in far less time, he was sure. But those were other people. This was his sister, which came with more complications.

Mikleo reached out to touch one of the glittering crystals, watching as it bobbed before dropping into the water. He let his fingers drop with it, staring at the basin at the base of the fountain.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Sorey since the ball. He hadn’t particularly wanted to fight through the rush of people who were eager to talk to the Shepherds and Praetors. Nor was it proper for him to go on his own. At the time he’d been grateful, because the temptation to just talk to Sorey was almost too great.

Mikleo bit his lip, swirling his fingers through the water. Talking might be too much, too obvious for the time being, but maybe letters. It was just what to say. He rolled back onto his back, shaking the water off of his fingers and flicking it back into the fountain. Mikleo listened to it _plop_ back into the fountain before everything evened out to the familiar background noise of running water.

Mikleo sighed and dropped his hand back to his chest, drumming his fingers there. He felt a burst of annoyance and anger, because this was not how it was supposed to be going. He’d waited eight years for Sorey to come back from the Abbey, and everything was supposed to fall into place. They would become engaged, get married, and then go to wherever Sorey was posted.

He slowed the drumming of his fingers at that thought, frowning up at his ceiling. He didn’t have that information, he didn’t have anything because they hadn’t gotten enough time. It was enough to make him regret not dragging Sorey off into the gardens for the rest of the night. At least then they would have gotten something more than a stolen kiss.

A squeal had him startling upright, Mikleo twisting to stare at his door. The sound quickly repeated itself, this time getting louder.

Mikleo hesitated for a moment before sliding off of the bed and rushing to his door. He pulled it open in time to see Cynthia go sprinting past for the stairs.

He stepped out of his room, staring down the hall where Cynthia was still running, a wrap and a bonnet in her hand. Mikleo was surprised by the choice of her dress, a soft, buttercup yellow. When she had last been working on it, she had said that it was for the next assembly dance, and yet here it was.

Mikleo rested his hand against the doorframe, turning to look over his shoulder. He heard a quick patter of feet and then Loanna was leaning out of the door of the room she shared with Cynthia.

Loanna sighed and slumped against the doorframe, three ribbons still draped around her shoulders and a bonnet smushed cockeyed on her head. Mikleo looked her over with a raised eyebrow, Loanna quick to wave him off. “We have a view of the drive.”

That was enough to get everything to fall into place. “Praetor St. Clair?”

“And others.” Loanna played with one of the ribbons, tapping it against her cheek as she looked back into her room. “They’re all riding up now. Would it be rude to ask where they got their horses?”

Mikleo ignored her last question, sure that she was only partially joking. It was more important that he rushed across the hall to look around her and out the window.

He was too far away to see much, but he could see four figures riding up the drive on the distinctive silver-grey horses of the Shepherds. Mikleo swayed forward, stopping himself from running to the window. There was no point when they would be at the door in moments. He swallowed and looked down at his clothes, making a face when he realized that he was still in his clothes from the night before, and they were in no shape for visitors.

“Do you need my help?” He glanced over at Loanna as she lifted her hand, the ribbons draped over the back of them. “I have quite the assortment.”

He shook his head, turning on his heel and walking quickly back into his room. Mikleo played with his cravat before looking in the mirror. It looked good enough, at least not a complete mess. It was his coat that was the worst, all wrinkled. He brushed at his sleeve before throwing the coat on the bed, his waistcoat quick to follow. Two strides had him over at his wardrobe, Mikleo staring at everything hung up before snatching at the closest thing that was suitable for a morning visit. He pulled the black waistcoat on, pausing long enough to brush it over just to make sure that it was flat before pulling on the teal coat. That got even less attention, Mikleo tugging at parts of it to try and make it look like he hadn’t just thrown it on. He turned, intending to glance at himself in the mirror. Instead, he was caught halfway across the room when he heard the door open.

Mikleo turned to look at the hallway, his mouth going dry. They were here already, which meant that he was out of time.

He stumbled to the door only to stop, reaching back to touch the end of the ribbon. It felt like the bow was tied in place, although he wanted to check it. But the mirror was across the room, and his feet were already moving. Mikleo settled for brushing his fingers over the ragged ends a few more times before giving up.

He kept himself to a steady pace, fighting the urge to sprint down the stairs like Cynthia had done. If it had been Sorey alone, that would have been one thing. But all of them were down there, which meant that he couldn’t look too eager.

Mikleo swallowed, tucking one hand behind his back and extending the other to grab the railing as he started down the stairs.

From where he was he could already hear the voices in the parlor, Mikleo easily picking out Cynthia’s voice. He could also hear laugher, although it was hard to figure out who it was from. With all of the Shepherds and Praetors visiting, every seraph that lived in Elysia would be eager to take a look without all of the rules and impositions of the ballroom.

He sped up a few steps before he remembered himself. Mikleo reined himself in, watching his steps carefully. He didn’t move his gaze from his feet until he got to the ground floor.

Mikleo stared at the boards beneath his feet before he nodded to himself. He felt like he was in control, or as much control as he could be. He just hoped that he didn’t look like he was a moment from shaking apart. He wiped his palms on his pants nervously before gathering himself together again.

He turned towards the parlor, taking another moment to breath before striding in.

Something in him unwound when the talk didn’t stop. A few of the seraphim looked his way, but their guests were more interesting. Mikleo was glad of it, it gave him the time to edge around the room and look.

Cynthia and Praetor Clem were the ones who caught his eyes first, but only because they were in the center of the room. His gaze dropped down to where their hands were practically brushing. Mikleo squashed the burst of jealousy with the ease of long years of practice. The worry was a little harder to get rid of. There were plenty of eyes watching them so nothing too untoward could happen. Then again, he and Sorey had still managed.

His fingers twitched by his side, Mikleo tearing his gaze away from the two of them. He hadn’t come down here to worry endlessly about his sister, although that was part of the reason. Most of the reason was to find Sorey again, although a quick glance showed that he wasn’t there.

Mikleo frowned and scanned the room, his gaze stopping on Rose and her seraph tucked up in the corner. The seraph was doing slow sweeps of the room, tugging at his cravat every once and a while. Rose didn’t seem to notice her partner’s discomfort, or she was purposefully ignoring it as she spoke with Taccio. Whatever their conversation was about, it was engrossing, more than enough to keep her from looking over at him. Mikleo wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not, especially with the way that her seraph seemed to turn his head to track his movements.

Mikleo glanced at the seraph before turning and making his way towards the back windows, intending to stand back and wait. It had been eight years since Sorey had visited Elysia, and he had more friends here than just Mikleo. Someone had probably claimed him as soon as he had come through the door and had taken him to look at all of the improvements that had been done to the manor. Mikleo shot a quick glance a Shiron, almost surprised that his brother hadn’t done it.

Then again, Mikleo couldn’t imagine Shiron giving up the chance to flirt with prospective Shepherds or Praetors. They didn’t get many, save for Michael and Lailah on their circuit. Mikleo threw a quick glance over at his brother where he was alternately trying to get Rose’s attention and throwing annoyed glances over at Cynthia and Praetor Clem.

Mikleo left him at it, giving Rose’s ring finger a glance. The green ring of her pact was sitting there, as plain as day, just like the matching one on her seraph’s. Shiron wasn’t going to get much headway with her.

He sighed and turned, startling backwards when he saw the other Praetor from the ball standing there.

The man gave him a wide smile and a bow that was more flourish that substance. At a loss of what to do, Mikleo returned the bow, jerking upright quickly when the man straightened up to look at him. “This is a charming estate.”

Mikleo was thrown by the informal address. Aside from the ball, Mikleo couldn’t think of a time when they had been introduced. He stared at the Praetor for a moment before giving him a nod. At a loss of what to say, he defaulted to the usual. “Grandfather has been looking after this estate since it was a dun guarding the pass.”

“Fascinating.” The word was said politely, but Mikleo saw how the Praetor’s gaze darted around the room. It was cataloguing, catching only what the Praetor wanted to hear and not on anything else. Mikleo was sure that the Praetor had focused on old as the important thing.

Mikleo sighed, struggling to keep his face neutral as the Praetor moved closer to him. If the Praetor noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“And Lord Zenrus is your grandfather?”

“Yes.” The word was strained.

“Interesting. I thought seraphim didn’t form families, at least not like that.”

“They were raised by him.” Mikleo turned at the sound of Sorey’s voice, relieved to see him coming. He scooted around the Praetor to be closer to Sorey when he came over. It was second nature to reach out for him, but Mikleo remembered himself at the last second, his fingers twitching by his side.

If Sorey noticed, he didn’t say anything. He stayed at the proper distance away, which was regrettable. But, Mikleo could feel the warm weight of Sorey’s gaze on him, and that was enough. Mikleo met it openly, because there was no need to be coy, not with Sorey. The frank gaze earned a soft smile, Sorey leaning forward in a bow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mikleo could see the Praetor following, but he didn’t bother to pay him any real attention until Sorey gestured towards the man. “Mikleo, this is Praetor Malfore Forton.”

Mikleo offered his hand, expecting the firm shake that he always got. Instead, Malfore took his hand and bend over it, Mikleo tensing when he felt Malfore’s lips touch it.

He just barely stopped himself from jerking his hand away fast enough that he would have slapped Malfore’s face. He still tugged it back faster than he ever would have.

Mikleo resisted the urge to wipe the back of his hand off, at least not while he was still being watched. It was still hard, especially with the crawling sensation along his skin.

He was used to shaking hands when he greeted someone new, or bowing at the bare minimum. Bowing over a hand was something that was reserved for someone you had great respect for, or specific intentions. The kiss leaned towards the latter, and made Mikleo want to sharply correct the Praetor, but the man’s gaze had already slid away.

“Cardinal Forton, my aunt, had nothing but good things to say about your grandfather and the community here.” Malfore glanced around the room and nodded. “And she was right, as she is about most things. It’s all quite remarkable, well worth the trip out here.”

Mikleo exchanged a quick look at Sorey, hoping for some kind of clue, but Sorey’s expression was carefully polite. It was as good of a hint that he would get, that and the name obviously dropped for his enlightenment. It would have helped more if he could place the slightly familiar name, but that could come later. Mikleo didn’t want to give Malfore the pleasure of being asked about his famous relative. And, from the almost eager look he was getting from Malfore, he was right about that.

Instead, he tucked his hands behind his back, taking that temptation away from Malfore. “I’m glad our little town was enough to tempt you here. Or was it to help your friend get settled in?”

“St. Clair?” Malfore recoiled for a moment, not bothering to hide his reaction. The next moment he was huffing out a laugh, not seeming to care that anyone else could hear him. “Oh no, the town itself is more than enough. The company is unfortunate, but it’s far safer to travel in numbers, even with the war over. The roads seem to be more dangerous despite of it. In that, St. Clair and Vesper have their uses. The two of them used to be soldiers.”

Mikleo’s gaze darted around the room, landing on Rose and her seraph. He tucked away the last name for later, but what was more important was the lack of titles. That and the way that Malfore seemed to completely ignore Sorey.

He took a deep breath, feeling anger bubble at that. He’d had more than enough of Malfore, and he was ready to go. If he wanted to hear more empty-headed notions about the state of the world, he would have walked over to Lord Bartlow’s manor and listened to him. If he was even welcome in Bartlow’s manor. Mikleo looked Malfore up and down before deciding that the Praetor couldn’t know about the scandal surrounding him, or he wouldn’t be so charming. It was a shame, and perhaps the first time Mikleo wished that someone would react to the rumors.

He went to take a step towards Sorey, frowning when Malfore moved with him, the man practically shoving Sorey aside to stay with him.

Mikleo’s fingers twitched by his side, tempted to soak the man down with water. But that might be too much considering the situation. He would save that for later.

Instead, he turned to look at Clem and Cynthia. The two of them were still too wrapped up in each other to really be paying attention to anything else in the room. It was perfect.

Mikleo cleared his throat, having to do it again to really get their attention. He smiled as soon as Cynthia looked his way. “How about a walk?”

Cynthia grinned at him, the expression easing the guilt he felt at using her to get away. There would be a chaperone for them, especially with three eligible suitors, but there was more of a chance for privacy, as they would be left to walk with their partners. As long as they were within eyesight, they would be left alone.

Cynthia turned towards Clem, reaching out like she was going to touch her arm, but she seemed to remember herself a moment later. Cynthia tucked her hand behind her back, a blush coloring her cheeks. “I think that sounds lovely. Don’t you, Praetor?”

From the look that Clem gave her, Cynthia could have asked for the moon and Clem would have agreed. That was good, it would give the two of them time. Better still, it would give him the time he needed.

He glanced over at where Natalie was sitting in her hair, working on some sewing work. He wanted to give her an apologetic smile for slotting her into the position of chaperone, but Natalie was already up and moving, following Cynthia.

Mikleo stepped around Malfore, hearing the man sputter, but he paid it no mind. He reached out for the arm that Sorey offered, something in the very depths of his being slipping into place. He sighed, remembering at the last minute not to lean against Sorey. There were too many eyes and eight years of distance that they had to pretend had happened.

He didn’t bother bidding farewell to Malfore as the two of them left, falling in after Cynthia, Clem and Natalie. Mikleo felt the eyes of the other seraphim slide over him, but they were quick to turn away. There was only one gaze that lingered, but Mikleo expected the censure from his younger brother. There was no point in looking back when it would just be for Shiron glaring at him.

He relaxed as they exited the parlor, finally allowing himself to lean into Sorey. He heard Sorey sigh, and then Sorey was leaning in too. Mikleo expected a comfortable weight against his shoulder, like before. But Sorey was a bit heavier now, more solid in a very good way. An interesting way if the muscles that Mikleo could feel under his hand meant anything. He was curious about it, but that wasn’t something that he should let his mind linger over.

Mikleo curled his fingers into the fabric of Sorey’s coat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sorey turn to look at him, but he just shook his head slightly. He could still hear the sound of the seraphim in the parlor, which meant that there was a chance that they could overhear them. It would be safer once they were outside, because there were plenty of paths that they could take, and Mikleo was hoping that Cynthia could choose to take the longer one.

He bit his lip, worrying at it as they stepped outside. Ahead of them, he could hear Cynthia’s chatter, the sound of it nervous. Clem didn’t seem to care. Her gaze was fixed on his sister with the kind of awe that he was wholly familiar with. Mikleo leaned a little more heavily on Sorey, hearing him chuckle.

“She didn’t stop asking about your sister all morning.”

“That’s good.” Mikleo was surprised by the way his throat closed up. He swallowed hard, trying to push back the tangle of feelings that came with what Sorey had said.

It was good, it meant that Clem was as interested in Cynthia as she was in Clem. It was everything that he wanted for his sister. There was her title, a reassurance of a good life for as long as Clem would live and then, most likely, a family that she could attach herself to after the fact. Just where that family would be Mikleo didn’t know, but he doubted that it would matter. It was what Cynthia wanted that was important. Keeping her safe for the rest of her long life was important.

He squeezed Sorey’s arm, meeting Natalie’s gaze as she looked back at them. Natalie inclined her head, turning her attention away. It wasn’t as good as the two of them sneaking off, and Mikleo was tempted to try it. But he was held in check by the sound of Cynthia’s voice drifting back to him. If it wasn’t for that, he would have long since dragged Sorey to one of their old hiding places to catch up on old times.

He sighed in frustration, not even the touch of Sorey’s hand against his enough to calm it. “What do we do now?”

It was a relief that he didn’t have to explain himself. Sorey just had to look up towards where his sister and the Praetor were walking before he ducked his head. “Run away?”

Mikleo almost laughed at that, but the sound turned bitter in the back of his throat. He shook his head. “Even if we got to Lohgrin and married, I’d have to use you as a vessel.”

“It’s what we planned.”

“I know.” Mikleo closed his eyes, trusting Sorey to lead him over the gravel walk. “I know, but it’s one scandal that we don’t need. We already have enough problems with what happened when we were children.”

“I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize.” Mikleo opened his eyes so he could look at Sorey. “I don’t regret what we did, only that we got caught, and everything that followed.”

“What happened? Here, I mean.” Sorey looked around like Medea’s gardens would provide the answer. “I’m surprised that I was welcomed back.”

“You’re a Shepherd.” Mikleo elbowed Sorey, grinning at the overexaggerated grunt that he got in response. “That’s almost respectable. I think a few of them are hoping that you’ll pull the double duty, marry one of their sons or daughters and then form a pact with one of the seraphim.”

“They should know better.” Sorey nudged him back. “I have you.”

It should have made him smile, but he felt it gutter out. Mikleo resettled his arm in Sorey’s, just to make himself feel a little bit better. “I think they were hoping that you would change your mind.”

“Mikleo-”

“I think they didn’t expect me to show up at the ball at Artorius’ Throne. I haven’t made a habit of going to many social events. I think that they were hoping that you would forget about me if I wasn’t there.”

“I would never.”

“I know.” Mikleo rested his head on Sorey’s shoulder. “I know.”

The two of them walked in silence for a moment, the leaves from the trees throwing dappled light over them. Mikleo watched it fall on Cynthia where she was in front of them, looking at the light forming a halo around her. Mikleo hoped that Clem would see it, although he couldn’t imagine that Clem would be more besotted than she already was.

“What happened?”

The question was so quiet that he almost missed it. Mikleo almost wanted to let is pass, but it was harmless enough. That didn’t stop him from sneaking a look at where his siblings were walking ahead, just to make sure that they weren’t listening in. They had experienced some of it, but he didn’t want them to hear the extent, because he didn’t need to hear them apologize. It wasn’t their fault.

He took a deep breath, holding onto it for a long moment before shaking his head. “Nothing much. The first few years I wasn’t welcome anywhere.” Sorey made a hurt noise, Mikleo quick to splay his fingers out over Sorey’s arm. “You know what they think. I’m prone to malevolence because I corrupted myself or something. And they don’t want to tempt fate themselves. The most that would happen is that they would make it clear that I was unwanted. That and mutter.”

“How it was a shame you had ruined yourself and all your potential for something so fleeting?” Mikleo twisted to look a Sorey. It sounded like he was quoting something, or someone, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Mikleo nodded. “Something like that. The town has let up a bit. I guess they found something more interesting. But the _ton_? They prefer to hold to it. Less competition I guess.”

“You were never competition in the first place.”

“No.” Mikleo smiled to himself, the brief feeling of victory disappearing when Sorey kept silent. He tipped his head to see Sorey’s face, not liking what he saw there.

He tugged his hand out from Sorey’s arm, the motion enough to get Sorey to stop. Mikleo took advantage of it, reaching up to cup Sorey’s cheek. Sorey leaned into the touch, reaching up to hold Mikleo’s hand in place. It was enough to make him glad that he had left his gloves in his room. It was nice to feel Sorey’s skin against his own, even if it wasn’t particularly proper. He and Sorey had long since gone beyond proper.

He rubbed his thumb along the line of Sorey’s cheekbone. “What about you?”

“The same.” Sorey gave him a weak smile. “It took a while longer but, I wasn’t really welcome outside of the Abbey.”

“And inside?”

Sorey shrugged, his gaze darting to where the others were walking before he tugged at Mikleo’s arm.

For a moment, he was tempted. There were plenty of benches in the garden where they could just sit and talk, but that was asking for trouble. Turning around would get them nowhere either, they would be found in the rush to talk to Sorey.

Mikleo shook his head, shifting his hold so he could grab onto Sorey’s hand. From the way that Sorey jumped, he hadn’t been expecting it, but they hadn’t done this since they were fifteen. It was unfair that it had been taken away from them too, but Mikleo didn’t let himself linger on it. If he thought back over all of the wrongs that had happened, nothing would get better.

“Sorey?”

Sorey swayed in place for a moment, his hand squeezing tight on Mikleo’s before he finally turned. Mikleo turned with him, bumping his shoulder up against Sorey when he didn’t immediately respond.

Sorey took a deep breath, Mikleo worried about the way that it came out on a shudder. Sorey kept his chin tucked for a moment more before he looked back over at him. “I’m glad you didn’t come with me.”

Mikleo felt a chill run down his spine. “Why?”

“It wasn’t what we thought. You wouldn’t have even been allowed in.”

“You told me as much.”

“But you would have tried to.” Sorey gave him a crooked smile. “Rose had her pact with Dezel before she came to the Abby. They wouldn’t let Dezel on the inside of the wall. They wouldn’t let Rose in if Dezel was with her. She had to take a room outside of the Abbey.”

“Why?”

“They want their Shepherds clean.” Sorey rolled his eyes, squeezing Mikleo’s hand. Mikleo was quick to return the squeeze. Sorey frowned for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s not quite right. They want them beyond reproach. Everyone is still reeling from what the Shepherds and the Abbey did before they realized what Konan was doing. They don’t want to lose the confidence of the populace.”

Mikleo frowned, his gaze locked on the black swirls and arcs on Sorey’s coat. He reached out to stroke his finger along one, quickly jerking it back when he realized that the touch was perhaps a bit too bold. He felt a muscle in his jaw jump, waiting it out before speaking. “That would have been hard to deal with. Especially after all of the stories.”

“Well, Michael came from the Abbey in Hyland.”

“True.” Mikleo pulled his gaze away from Sorey’s jacket. “But would it matter that much?”

The fact that Sorey didn’t say anything was answer enough, and it was just enough for Mikleo to press their shoulders together again. They had been young when Michael had told them the stories about being a Shepherd and the wonders of the world. That was how he and Sorey had decided on this path. After all, Sorey had the resonance for it. Far more than enough.

Mikleo jerked his gaze back to where Cynthia and Clem were talking ahead of them, his stomach swooping at the sight of blue, white and gold. He rubbed the fabric of Sorey’s coat between his fingers before ducking his head. “I thought you would be a Praetor.”

“That doesn’t happen to people like me.”

Mikleo sucked in a quick breath, clutching at his arm. He was torn between just shouting or shoving at Sorey, just to shock him out of whatever he was thinking. It was what he would have done when he was fifteen, but that was the behavior of a child. Instead, he let his breath out in a rush. “Because they think you’re ruined?”

It might have been because time had passed that Sorey was able to nod, although Mikleo was relieved when he saw a hint of a smile. “Well, that. And I’m the son of a printer and a priestess.”

“And a general.”

“The war is over; father’s position doesn’t mean much anymore. Besides,” Sorey rolled one shoulder in a shrug, “technically it’s an open secret. Officially, how I came to be is unknown. I’m a miracle from the Great Lords bestowed on two loving women.”

“One of many.”

Sorey huffed, only managing to hold back his laughter for a moment longer. Mikleo smiled at the sound, fighting the urge to press his lips against the column of Sorey’s neck and chase the sound. Mikleo took a deep breath, glancing towards where his sisters were to see if he dared.

He bit his lip to keep from cursing when he saw that Natalie was looking back at him. It didn’t help that there was no judgement in her gaze, just relief. That in itself wasn’t too helpful considering that she was still _watching _them.

Mikleo untangled one of his hands from Sorey, giving Natalie a shooing motion. He thought that it would be enough for her to just look away, but Natalie surprised him by narrowing her eyes.

Natalie raised her chin, holding his gaze for a moment before pointedly looking over at where Clem and Cynthia were still in their own world. It was a clear reminder, and it made Mikleo wince.

It must have been noticeable because Sorey reached for his hand. Mikleo sucked in a quick breath at the brush of their skin before tucking his hand behind his back. It felt cold there, wiggling his fingers nervously. “Sorey, my sister…and Praetor St. Clair.”

Sorey glanced over at them, his gaze lingering for a long time. Sorey reached back to rub at the back of his neck, Mikleo seeing a bit of red back there. “Clem wouldn’t stop talking about Cynthia last night. I think I ran out of stories to tell her.”

“Good.” Mikleo nodded with more confidence than he actually felt. “But you know her better than I do.”

“Well, I don’t think she would be pretending about this. She is a soldier. Was.” Sorey made a face. “She’s more like me than Malfore.”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking back to Clem. She had her head turned to listen to whatever Cynthia was talking about. He scanned over the dark line of the scar that ran across her cheeks and nose. It looked well healed enough to be from the war, and the war was distant enough to make it dashing. After all, no one had quite gotten over the thrill of seeing a soldier in their uniform or scars.

He flexed his fingers, humming in the back of his throat. “I’ll have to talk to her.”

Sorey chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect anything else. But it won’t take much to convince them.”

“All it would take is a push. They’ve done all the work for us.” Mikleo bit at his lower lip, feeling a flash of guilt. What he was doing was just what every other person did at the balls or gatherings. They would throw young humans and seraphim together and hope something stuck long enough for marriage. Love was not needed, like was optional. Everything else could be gotten through marriage.

Thankfully, that was not something that Zenrus would allow. And yet, he was trying to make it happen.

Mikleo took a deep breath, letting his feet drag a bit. It would put more space between them and Natalie, which is what he needed for this. This was something that he didn’t even want to hear his older sister hearing.

Sorey adjusted to his pace, Mikleo watching as Sorey’s hand reached out before jerking back to his side. Mikleo ached to take it, but he couldn’t, not until this was sorted out. But staring at it didn’t help at all. It just made the longing worse.

He steeled himself, hoping that he could hold after eight years’ worth of practice. “Sorey, I know what we’ve always said but…I _can’t_.” The word shook more than he meant it to, Mikleo quickly gathering himself together. “I mean, you know what it’s like. My sisters lived through it once and if we still choose each other...”

Sorey made a sound like he was going to protest, but he must have thought better because it turned into a sigh. “You think they’ll refuse the banns because of malevolence.”

“No. I think they’ll oppose the banns because they’ll remember us and the malevolence we’re supposed to have.” Mikleo made a face before leveling a glance a Sorey. “Unless you believe it.”

Some part of him braced for Sorey to nod, because it was a thing that humans thought. It wouldn’t be Sorey’s fault for it, not when the whole world told him that it was true. Still, it was a relief when Sorey made a similar annoyed expression. “Seraphim can’t generate malevolence anyway.”

“No.” Mikleo smiled to himself, feeling something that might have been a laugh bubbling up, but he swallowed it back. “The irony is that if I did get malevolent, it would be their fault.”

“Did you?”

Mikleo shook his head. “My sisters made sure that I never felt like a complete outcast. And I never learned to feel ashamed of it.”

“Good.” Sorey sounded relieved. “I didn’t think you would but…”

Mikleo watched him out of the corner of his eye, his stomach twisting. “Were you alone?”

Sorey shot him a look of surprise before rubbing the back of his neck. “No. I had my step-brother and sister when I was at home, and then Rose, Clem and the others who weren’t from the gentry at the Abbey.”

“I’m glad.” Mikleo swayed towards him. “No one should have to go through that alone.”

“And that’s why you’re protecting your sister.”

Mikleo nodded, relieved that Sorey could read him so easily. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but eight years was a long time apart with only letters. Things could have changed. Mikleo was sure that they had, but at least the essential parts of Sorey had not.

He tucked both hands behind his back, rubbing at his wrist. “I was fine not going to parties or the bigger events. I had spent most of the time ignoring them with you.” He flashed a smile at Sorey, feeling warmth fill him as Sorey smiled back. “So, it wasn’t a loss. But for the others it would be. Cynthia loves being out among the people. Loanna likes working with the farmers and anyone she can get to talk about her horses. Both of them _would_ be susceptible to malevolence if they were cooped up and shunned. And Shiron…”

Mikleo bit his lip, considering his little brother before sighing. “He wants what he’s been told to want too much.” He meant to leave it at that, but Sorey made an inquiring noise, that enough to spur Mikleo to talk again. “He wants to be out in society, to dance and flirt until he finds a Shepherd or a family for himself and settle down. There’s nothing he wants more than to be the ideal seraph.”

“So, what the Abbey says.”

Mikleo huffed, releasing his wrist so he could wave one arm. “It’s how he’s survived. As soon as the scandal got out, Shiron made a point of not being seen with me so he could have his chance. Unfortunately, things got informal. It’s hard to enjoy your first season out, the one that’s supposed to just be you in the limelight, with a scandal and your two younger sisters out at the same time.”

Sorey flinched, his breath hissing between his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, Mikleo saw Sorey reach up to rub at the back of his neck. “That must be hard for him.”

“He’s come to terms with Cynthia a few years back, because she was too young to interest anyone, not when there were seraphim who were…more in their power. And he worked hard.” Mikleo sighed, reaching up to push his bangs out of his face. “He’s worked hard to keep himself desirable.”

“You make it sound like that has an expiration date.”

“He might think he does. I don’t know.” Mikleo sighed. “I never paid attention to that, because I made my own choice long ago.”

He expected a smile or a laugh, not the pained look that Sorey gave him. It was enough to get him to turn towards Sorey. He reached out before he could stop himself, his hand hanging awkwardly between the two of them until he finally pulled back.

Sorey just watched it happen before giving him a slow nod. “Our plans might change.”

Mikleo tipped his head to the side. He wasn’t able to stop himself from looking at the coat that Sorey wore, the black markings standing out from the white.

He had heard of Squires making a coat in Shepherds colors before they had earned it, trying to get their pick of the seraphim for the season, but Sorey would never do that. There was no reason to show off, because Mikleo would have chosen him no matter what. It was less that and more what Sorey was now.

Mikleo felt keenly the loss of blue, white and gold, but he knew the reason now. Part of the shunning was because Sorey wasn’t what the Abbey was looking for. They wanted rich families, families who would increase their prestige and remember them in their wills. That was almost as difficult to stomach as the thought that the other part of it had been because they thought that Sorey was somehow lesser because of their intimate relations.

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “You’re a Shepherd, that’s all that matters.”

“On circuit.” Sorey seemed almost embarrassed about it. The corner of his mouth twitched, probably in a rare flash of self-deprecation, and Mikleo didn’t like it.

“So what? That just means we get to see the world. We always meant to do that anyway.”

“But what about-”

“Sorey.” Mikleo turned to face him. Sorey slowed, giving Natalie a few glances before coming to a stop. Mikleo stared at Sorey for a moment before muttering a curse under his breath and reaching out to grab his arm. He was relieved when Sorey didn’t jerk away, but just met his gaze steadily. Mikleo squeezed his arm. “As long as I am here, no one here will let me forget what happened, even if they don’t openly react anymore. Getting away would be good, because it will give me time. Besides, we always wanted to travel the world.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Sorey’s mouth and didn’t leave. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve had eight years to think about it, and I haven’t changed by mind yet.” Mikleo tipped his chin up. “You couldn’t convince me otherwise.”

“You’d have to get a vessel.”

“Why? We’ll be under a pact by then.” Mikleo felt his confidence waver for a moment, his stomach swooping. “That is…unless you’re leaving soon.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been given my orders.” Sorey sighed. “I was hoping to take some time to visit with my moms and…see you.”

Mikleo blushed, but he didn’t bother to duck his head and hide it. He was far too old to do that, and Sorey knew him far too well. Besides, there was no shame in this.

He snuck a look back at where his sisters were walking. To his relief, they didn’t seem to have noticed that he and Sorey stopped, which meant that they had a small window to figure things out.

He licked his lips, pointedly ignoring the way that Sorey’s attention focused on them. That was something to be addressed later, no matter how much he yearned for it.

Mikleo stroked his fingers along Sorey’s arm, allowing himself that much before shaking his head. “Then we might have time. You’re a newer Shepherd, so they might not give you your orders first, which means they have a chance.”

Sorey hummed, reaching out to stroke over the back of Mikleo’s fingers. “They might get two weeks out of it. And someone might notice.”

“They’ll be blinded by the fact that she’s Lord Zenrus’ granddaughter. As long as I’m on my best behavior, no one will care.”

Sorey raised his eyebrow, Mikleo struggling to hold back to urge to elbow him and repeat himself. He was perfectly capable of behaving himself, especially since the situation called for it. He was eight years older and wiser, he had learned some kind of restraint, if only at a great price.

He squeezed Sorey’s arm one more time before offering him a wavering smile. “We’ve lasted eight years. We can wait a little longer.”

Sorey smiled, looking more like himself. He tugged Mikleo closer, Mikleo going along with the pull. By now his sisters would be far enough ahead that they wouldn’t be looking back. Besides, this was something to tide him over, just something for him to hold tight until Cynthia was safely engaged and no longer in danger of being denied because of his scandalous past. Then he and Sorey could disappear from gossip on their circuit and never be bothered by the malicious whispers again. After all, they would be far away from the people who knew about the scandal, and busy doing work that was too much appreciated to be scorned.

Mikleo let go of Sorey’s arm to wrap his arms around him, taking a deep breath as he settled. He could hold out for that, and return the favor. He felt Sorey squeeze him tight, a ghost of a kiss brushing across his temple. But it wasn’t enough.

He cupped Sorey’s face in his hands, pausing to look for any kind of reluctance in Sorey’s face. There was none there, which was what he expected, just eagerness. Mikleo smiled before leaning in to kiss him.

He had meant to keep it short, but he had never been good with restraint around Sorey. It didn’t help that Sorey was just as eager, wrapping his arms around Mikleo’s waist and tugging him close. Mikleo squeaked as he was pulled up against Sorey. He thought he heard a laugh, but he stopped that with a warning nip to Sorey’s lip before he pulled away.

“Sorey…” He meant it to be chiding, but it came more as breathless.

That just seemed to encourage Sorey to grin and swoop in for one quick kiss before he let go. “I can’t help it. I’ve had a while to dream about this.”

Mikleo huffed, reaching up to drag his fingers over one of the feathers in Sorey’s earrings, setting it to rights. He let his hand drop away, resting on Sorey’s shoulder before pulling it away.

He took a deep breath before stepping away from Sorey. “It’s just until they get the license.”

Mikleo wasn’t sure who the reassurance was for, but Sorey nodded all the same. For a moment, he looked like he was going to offer Mikleo his arm, but he stopped. Mikleo was glad about that at least. He didn’t know how well he would be able to control himself when he was touching Sorey. It didn’t matter if it was acceptable contact, it was too much when he knew that everything else wasn’t allowed him.

He sighed, flexing his fingers in frustration before turning on his heel. “Come on, Natalie might have let us have this, but she’ll start asking after us soon.”

Sorey tipped his head to the side. “How much does she know?”

“Almost everything.” Mikleo offered a small smile. “Some things are just ours though.”

It was only right considering that he was sure that his siblings kept secrets from him. They were close, but Mikleo didn’t need to hear everything about their lives, especially Natalie’s. Then again, Mikleo was sure that he knew of a few of the secrets she kept back from their younger sisters.

He snuck a look at Sorey out of the corner of his eye before clearing his throat. He thought he saw a smile sneak across Sorey’s face, Mikleo relieved when it stayed there, even when they turned the corner and saw Natalie idling worriedly.

Natalie gave the two of them a sharp look, Mikleo only sure that he escaped a lecture because Clem and Cynthia were so close. On his part, Mikleo wasn’t sure that the two of them would hear anything that Natalie would have said, not with the way that their heads were practically pressed together. 

Mikleo took a moment to study the two of them, Cynthia with hair pulled back into a messy chignon and Clem with her hair in a low, military queue, a sun-touched yellow and deep red close by each other. They looked lost in their own world, so much so that Mikleo was sure that they wouldn’t turn back until they were reminded to. He was tempted not to tell them, if only to be able to steal a few more moments for himself. But Natalie would never allow that. Shepherd Rose and Praetor Malfore were still in the parlor, and Natalie would at least attempt to bring them back to at least not appear rude. Mikleo was sure that Cynthia wouldn’t be happy about that, and he didn’t like the idea either.

In the gardens he could at least indulge himself with quick touches, back in the parlor he would have to be on his best behavior. Then again, it might not be a total loss, he could at least talk to Shepherd Rose and her seraph. If she was a friend of Sorey’s, then she was worth getting to know. At least she was better than Praetor Malfore.

Mikleo shot a look at Clem. He would have to talk to her eventually, because he had a brotherly interest in the proceedings. But that might be hard considering how Cynthia was monopolizing her time. Between him and his siblings he might manage it. They were bound to be as interested as she was.

Natalie remained lingering behind until Mikleo and Sorey had caught up. Then she slipped in beside him, giving Sorey a nod. That was enough to send him off a few strides ahead, Mikleo glaring at her for her interference. 

Natalie didn’t seem to notice or care, because she just looped their arms together. “And what kept you?”

Mikleo nodded ahead at where Sorey was walking, waiting just long enough for Natalie to glance over at him before speaking. “Nothing untoward. We were just catching up a bit.”

“Away from prying eyes?”

“Friends talking isn’t scandalous.”

“No.” Natalie paused for a moment, leaning into him. “But have the two of you changed that much?”

“Very little.”

“Ah.” There was a long of knowing in that one word, Mikleo almost afraid to look at his sister. He was a little bit relieved when she just patted his arm before letting go. “The both of you are a little smarter now, I think.”

She leveled him a look in warning, Mikleo already starting to flinch away. She didn’t let him get far, Natalie watching him carefully before looking away with a nod. “I trust you, Mikleo.”

Mikleo ducked his head. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, or any of you.”

She patted his arm again. “I know.”

For a moment, she looked like she was going to say something else, but she changed her mind at the last minute. Instead, she let go of his arm and gave him another nudge with her shoulder before walking away. It was enough to make Mikleo stumble a bit, his attention abruptly taken as Sorey moved back towards him.

Sorey reached out to steady him before jerking his hands back, tucking them away as if he couldn’t trust himself. He still hovered close, which made Mikleo smile and want to reach out and kiss him. But that would be for later, for another stolen moment away from prying eyes. 

Instead, he cleared his throat and straightened up, watching as Sorey went from wary to more relaxed. He still didn’t step away, which Mikleo was fine with. He couldn’t bear it if Sorey put more distance between them than was needed. They had their parts to play, but that didn’t mean that they should drive themselves mad with longing.

Sorey cleared his throat, the sound enough to snap Mikleo back to the present. He glanced over at Sorey, watching as Sorey jerked his chin in the direction of Natalie. “Was that a warning?”

Mikleo tipped his head to the side, his smile widening. “I think it was permission.”


	3. Chapter 3

THIS WAS TORTURE.

Mikleo glanced up over the top of his book, a breath catching in his throat as he saw Sorey laughing. He shifted on his chair, the sound drawing him over, but he resisted the temptation. But only just.

He leaned back in his seat, purposefully pressing his shoulders against the back of his chair to keep him staying put. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. It was part of the careful game that he and Sorey were playing and he couldn’t break now.

Mikleo swallowed and glanced around the room, picking out where the seraphim were lingering. Most of them were clustered around Sorey and Rose as the two of them traded stories. Mikleo had caught a few of them and recognized some of their exploits from their youth. Of course, Sorey carefully danced around some of the more explicit parts of them, but Mikleo still fought to keep himself from blushing. It was easy enough with his book, just so long as no one noticed that he wasn’t turning the pages. Instead, his whole focus was on the sound of Sorey’s voice and laugh across the room.

There was another burst of laughter, one that was quickly interrupted by Rose taking over. Mikleo ran his thumb over the edge of the page, biting his lip. 

At least Rose was better, he could tune her out if he wanted to. Except that the stories that she told were just as fascinating. It was far better than the book that he was attempting to read. Mikleo couldn’t even remember what book it was. He had just picked it up off of the table to give himself the illusion that he was busy. With his luck, it was one of the novels that Shiron was always carrying around.

Mikleo tried to focus on the words, but his attention quickly slipped away back to the story. Rose was talking about how she had snuck Dezel into the Abbey and had gone a whole day without anyone noticing that he was there, save for Sorey who had grown up close to the other seraphim. Mikleo had to marvel at the fact that none of the other Shepherds in training were allowed to know what it felt like to have a seraph so close. It was alarming in a way, that they were so disconnected, especially when there was at least one seraph attached to a town, standing as Lord of the Land. But that might not be close enough contact.

He considered the problem before shaking his head and turning the page. Mikleo stared blankly at the words, playing with the edge of the page. There were other things that he could be doing. There was still business that Mikleo could help with. After all, it was getting close to the time that Zenrus liked to do an inventory of the things that remained from the last tax season as well as the things that were no longer used at the estate. It was important, and something that would need to be done. As it was, this was an informal visit, and an excuse for Cynthia and Clem to meet together.

Mikleo glanced over at where the two were ensconced by one of the windows. They were in clear line of sight for nearly everyone in the room, a fact that most everyone was pretending that they didn’t notice. It was the closest to privacy that the two could have, unless they snuck away. Mikleo was glad that they had not. Scrutiny was probably not what they wanted, but it was better than the alternative. Not that it stopped Shiron from looking up from his letter writing and glaring at them like he expected them to be sneaking off. 

Mikleo thumbed over the edge of the page, giving up on the book entirely as Lawrence made his way into the room. 

Lawrence gave the parlor a quick look over before drifting to him. Mikleo set the book down on a nearby table, about to stand up when Lawrence waved him down. “Don’t. Lord Zenrus is just finishing up a few things.” Lawrence paused for a moment, turning his head to look over to where Clem and Cynthia were standing. He smiled, jerking his chin in their direction. “I think he’s waiting on Praetor St. Clair to speak with him about our Cynthia.”

Mikleo took a quick breath, fighting the urge to look at his sister or ask if Lawrence thought that it might happen. If it were any other circumstances, he wouldn’t ask that question. He would be asking about if it were too soon. After all, a scattering of visits over a few days made a courtship, but not enough to be something more. For that to happen, Mikleo would have to wait weeks. 

He should have been prepared, but that was always easier when Sorey wasn’t across the room.

He suddenly itched to have something to do instead of sitting around. He wanted to help Zenrus with his tasks, or he wanted to be out on his own business, expect that he didn’t have much of that. He hadn’t since Sorey had left for Pendrago. It had always been easier to just hide in Elysia and its grounds rather than face the scorn of the town. Mikleo wished that he had been braver, it meant that he would have something to do other than sit in the room and wish that he and Sorey could have quiet conversations by the window instead of pretending to enjoy Shiron’s novel.

Mikleo glanced over at Sorey, not able to look away as Sorey turned and met his gaze. He relaxed as Sorey smiled, knowing that he was returning with one of his own. It had to be obvious, an annoyed snap of Shiron’s fan told him as much. Mikleo ignored it, letting his gaze linger for a moment longer before looking over at Lawrence. 

The fire seraph had turned away, leaning on the side of the chair with no care to decorum, but they were all like that. This was close enough to a family gathering that they could ignore such things. Clem was working on getting into the family and Rose fit so well with the rest of them. It was like when Muse and Kyme, or Michael and Lailah would come to visit, they just slid into the life of the mansion like they had always been there. 

The thought made Mikleo wonder what Michael and Lailah were up to, aside from traveling the dusty summer roads on their circuit. He didn’t have long to ponder the question, because the peace in the room was broken.

Lawrence was the first to notice it, Mikleo hearing him sigh before he straightened up. Mikleo looked up, having to twist to see who was coming through the door, although he needn’t have bothered. Malfore’s voice carried just fine through the halls.

“All of them? Well that’s fine then.”

Mikleo tried to slide deeper into his chair, but he caught Malfore’s eye as the Praetor entered the room. Malfore gave him an elegant bow before he turned his attention to the rest of the room. He stayed there perhaps a moment too long before he was standing up again.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I had to rush over with the news and it couldn’t wait a moment.” Malfore turned his shoulder to Rose and Sorey, most of his attention on where Cynthia was standing slightly in front of Clem. Malfore didn’t seem to notice it at all aside from a tip of his head. “Cardinal Forton has sent a message through the wind post. She intends to make a visit to the Praetor here and see how settled she has become. She said that she would be here in hours, so it is best that we are there.”

“Hours?” Clem looked at the clock on the mantle. “It won’t take hours to get back to Artorius’ Throne.”

Malfore huffed, his fingers drumming on the gilt hilt of his sword. “It won’t. But once we are at the Empyreon’s Throne we can prepare ourselves for her visit.” The flash of anger across his face was brief, like Malfore remembered who he was with. Then it was back into his bland smile. “But I think you are right. We have a few hours and it wouldn’t do to rush from such wonderful company.”

Mikleo tensed at the bow that was mostly directed his way, unnerved by the attention. He only kept his seat through force of will, his fingers playing with a loose thread in the arm. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Lawrence tense up, but it was worse that he didn’t say anything. Mikleo desperately wanted to meet Sorey’s gaze, but he didn’t know what the two of them would be able to come up with. As it was Malfore was already sauntering closer to him.

He pushed himself out of the chair, intending to sidle away to the far side of the room. He could find something else to pretend to distract himself with. If all else failed he could strike up a conversation with Rose. She looked sharp enough to realize what he was doing, and maybe she would be kind enough not to point it out. She and Sorey were friends, so she was bound to have heard about the two of them. Besides, he might as well get to know one of Sorey’s friends.

Mikleo only made it a few steps when he was intercepted. Shiron and Malfore descended on him at almost the same time. He turned to maneuver around the Praetor only for Shiron to catch his arm.

He startled at the touch, shocked by the touch more than anything. He couldn’t remember the last time Shiron had touched him, even if it was something as simple as brushing against each other in the halls. It had to have been years. His brother‘s fingers jittered against Mikleo’s arm before moving so they were barely plucking at his sleeve, but Mikleo doubted that Malfore would notice.

Mikleo dug his heels in as Shiron turned the two of them, tempted to break away and continue on with his plan, but Malfore had positioned himself so that Mikleo would have to shove past him, which would be taking things too far, no matter how much the temptation.

The urge to pull water into ice tingled at the tips of his fingers, but he ignored it. That would be rude. But even then it took a lot to convince himself not to do anything.

Shiron didn’t seem to notice his struggle, his brother was too busy leaning forward with a smile. “Praetor Forton, will the cardinal be staying long?”

Malfore blinked at Shiron, like he was trying to place him among the many seraphim of Elysia, but the confusion only lasted a moment. Then the genial smile was back, although it was only directed at him. Mikleo only had a moment to wonder if Shiron even noticed that, but then Malfore was talking again, and Mikleo wanted to escape.

“Oh, I’m not sure. She didn’t say. The message was rather short because of the distance between the wind towers.” Malfore nodded at Mikleo. “You should really talk to your grandfather about modernizing. There’s so much empty land that could be better used.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him. I always say-”

“That’s farmland.” Mikleo ignored Shiron’s pinch. “It’s lying fallow for the year.”

“But…” Malfore frowned. “it’s not being used.”

“Not for the year. It’s _fallow_.” Mikleo leaned on the word perhaps a bit harder than he should, but he wasn’t sure that Malfore understood it.

From the way that the Praetor stared at him before waving his hand dismissively, he understood none of it.

“Well, then there’s no reason that you shouldn’t build a tower there if it isn’t being used. And, considering the amount not being used, I would consider talking to your tenants about it. Of course, the best thing would be to enclose. After all, it’s your land anyway, and you can best decide.”

“Oh, I-”

“Then where would they live?”

“Mikleo!”

Mikleo brushed off Shiron’s hand. “If we take away their fields and enclose the common land, where would they live?”

“Well, that’s their problem, isn’t it?”

“Is it? Their families have lived on that land for centuries, and we just take it away?”

Malfore seemed to struggle with the idea for a moment. “It…it is yours. You have the right to it. And if you don’t do anything that Camlann will be a little backwater forever.”

Mikleo narrowed his eyes, looking Malfore up and down before turning. He thought he heard Shiron make a disapproving sound, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He looked over at where Cynthia and Clem were paying attention, meeting his sister’s gaze. He thought he saw her nod, which at least meant that she had been following along. “Cynthia, how are the talks going with the wind towers?”

Cynthia hummed, Mikleo sure that she was just playing for time. He thought he heard someone chuckle, but the noise wasn’t loud enough to bother looking.

Cynthia kept them in suspense for a moment before nodding. “We have a few of the local wind seraphim trying to find the best places for them. The winds here can be variable, and we want to keep them as sheltered as possible. We’ve been considering running them along the road…”

“No good.” Dezel piped up from his corner. “Your road is very exposed.”

“It is, isn’t it.” Cynthia tipped her head to the side. “Well, it’s been around forever. It’s just the old paths that have been used since people and seraphim first came here. But there is a commission of wind seraphim looking into it. They should have results by the end of the year and then we’ll get the towers up.”

“A year?” Malfore shook his head. “You’ll rusticate. How will you get news from Rolance?”

“We never said that we don’t get any news.”

There was a huff from Shiron, the sound making Cynthia glare at him and turn toward Clem again. Mikleo didn’t bother to call for her again, they had both gotten what they had wanted. The only one that didn’t seem happy was Shiron, but at least it meant that his brother had let go of his arm. Mikleo tucked it close to his body, wanting to keep himself away from Shiron grabbing onto him again. He resisted the urge to rub where Shiron had pinched him, he was just barely above that kind of petty childishness. 

Instead, he lifted his chin slightly, giving Malfore an even look. “You’ll find we do things a little differently out here than in Pendrago or Rolance. The mountains create their own problems.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that. They’re very…” Malfore flapped his hand about, like he hadn’t noticed the tone of Mikleo’s voice. “Very in the way.”

“It takes hours to get anywhere.” Shiron was quick to agree. “The roads around Camlann are good enough, but it’s like no one else cares.”

Malfore frowned. “Lord Zenrus should do something about it then, or maybe his heir should take it upon himself.”

He directed his glance at Mikleo, something that surprised him for a moment. Mikleo was sure that he hid it well. 

The jump to him as heir was logical enough. Natalie didn’t seem to be acting the part, and he was the next oldest. Besides that, he was always around the manor, although that was more habit than any aspirations for taking over Elysia when Zenrus needed a break or wanted to go wandering. Mikleo glanced over at Clem, saved from answering when Shiron burst into carefully controlled laughter.

“Mikleo? No. Cynthia will do that.”

Malfore hummed and looked over at Cynthia. Mikleo tensed when he saw a considering look pass over Malfore’s face. It didn’t go away, not even when Shiron unfurled his fan and started fluttering it. Mikleo assumed it was the proper come hither motion, but either Malfore was as blind to the fan language as he was, or the praetor had other things on his mind.

They were held waiting long enough that Mikleo wanted to try and slid away again, but Malfore looked back too fast. “Really? That’s a surprise.”

“Mikleo isn’t interested.”

“And why is that?”

Mikleo shot a look at Shiron, just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Shiron flicked his fan in his direction. It was easier to just look over at Sorey, who was doing his best to look supportive from across the room. “I have other plans.”

“Oh?”

“Mikleo wants to travel.”

Malfore’s eyebrows rose, the shock of it all probably making him miss the way that Mikleo elbowed Shiron in the side. Shiron frowned and went to smack him, but his brother reined himself in, going back to his fan fluttering as Malfore looked at them again.

“That could be dangerous.”

Mikleo tipped his chin up. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can.” Mikleo bristled at the mollifying tone. “But it would be safer if you had someone to travel with. There are all sorts out there.”

“There are all sorts in here too.”

Mikleo was sure that Malfore missed what he meant entirely, because he was quick to nod. “The mountains are a bit more dangerous than I expected. You hear so many things about your charming duchy, but seeing it is different. It’s so…rugged.” Malfore said the word like he wasn’t sure if he should imply insult. “It makes me wonder why Rolance and Hyland ever wanted to fight over it.”

Shiron did one of his laughs, one of the ones that Mikleo was sure that was supposed to be enticing and agreeable. The sound grated on him, and Mikleo wanted to shove his brother. This was not something that would be so easily waved off, certainly not because Shiron thought Malfore a pretty face.

He took a step away from his brother, glad that Shiron didn’t try to draw him back. He didn’t want to be stuck here to watch Malfore stumble his way through the mildest of insults while Shiron looked at him as if he had hung the moon. Just the thought made a muscle in his jaw twitch, but Mikleo reined himself in, although just barely.

“I wonder too.”

That was enough to finally get a reaction from Malfore. He jerked back slightly, the genial expression on his face disappearing for a moment to be replaced with something else. It was too mild to be anger, but Mikleo found himself wishing that it was. At least it would be easier to react to. Instead, he watched as Malfore quickly adjusted, a smile crossing his face. “Well, I can’t speak for those who started the war, I wasn’t let into those meetings. But, being here, I believe that the duchy is in better hands with your grandfather.”

That was a change from what he had said before, but Mikleo didn’t get the chance to call him on it, because Shiron elbowed his way in with a flutter of his fan. “But we must thank Cardinal Forton for sending us a Praetor. Our priestess and Lord of the Land do their best, but there’s a lot going on with a growing country.”

“Ah.” Malfore seemed to have been reassured by that, and he graced Shiron with a bow. “And I’m sure you’ll be helping out, as befitting a grandson of Lord Zenrus.”

Mikleo flinched as Shiron laughed, but he didn’t bother to linger any longer. Shiron had finally made his way into the conversation, and Mikleo was more than happy to leave it with him. There were more profitable things to do with his time.

He stepped back, scanning the room. Clem and Cynthia were still wrapped up in their own world, and Rose had gone back to telling her story. But Sorey didn’t seem to be listening. He kept giving Mikleo worried glances, like he was about to charge across the room. Mikleo shook his head, trying to subtly motion for Sorey to stay where he was. He had learned the trick of extracting himself from conversations he didn’t like and then disappearing. It was a simple enough trick.

Mikleo turned away, intending to make his way over to the far corner of the room when he spotted Loanna coming his way. He sighed when he noticed her poisonous glance towards Malfore and Shiron. Mikleo strode over to her, catching her arm before she could do anything. “Play nice.”

“I don’t see why I have to. It’s not like he’s staying.” Loanna stuck out her tongue, Mikleo hurriedly turning her away.

“Stop that.”

“Why? I’m never going to be begging for his favor. And the others clearly don’t like him.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“It’s plenty for me.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, obviously done with the two of them. “Shiron is welcome to him. He’s probably hoping that the Praetor will whisk him away to some distant city where he can pretend he’s never heard of us.”

“Loanna…”

“I don’t have to be nice if it’s the truth.”

Mikleo sighed, shaking his head. Loanna was trying, but maybe it was purposeful. After all, Camlann was a-flutter with the idea of marriages with three from the Abbey in town. The gentry from Hyland and Rolance were bound to start pouring in too, and then the season would be in full swing. The rounds would be made and expectations would put Loanna forward where she didn’t want to be. The only kind of partner that would interest her would be one that cared more about the horses than any show of wealth or influence. Mikleo had a sneaking suspicion that those kind of people were the ones that never came around. They probably went back to their own estates. Not that Loanna seemed the worse for it.

Loanna reached up to pull her hair back, playing with it for a moment. Her expression went thoughtful, a few strands escaping from her fingers. “Cynthia mentioned a ride, just to get out of the house on such a nice day. And I agree, there’s nothing moving in.”

Mikleo knew better than to ask if she was sure. As a wind seraph, she would know best how the winds were blowing and bringing in storms. Besides, she wasn’t nervous like she would get before a storm blew in. 

Even still, Mikleo looked back at where Dezel was standing by Rose. The seraph looked tense, but Mikleo was willing to bet it was because of the number of people in the room rather than any approaching storm.

Loanna seemed to take his silence for hesitation because she reached out to tug at his sleeve. “Don’t tell me you want to stay in here?”

“No, but-”

“There will be plenty of time for the group to spread out.” She grinned at him, Mikleo feeling his stomach flutter.

It was tempting, but more of his attention was on the fact that she knew that he would want to attempt something like that. That he was so obvious was worrying.

He fixed Loanna with what he hoped was a warning glare. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Never.” She gave him a serious look. “Not beyond this. It wouldn’t be worth it. Cynthia would be heartbroken.”

Mikleo looked over at where Cynthia was over by the window, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he listened to her laugh. His sister wouldn’t be able to survive the way that he had. She wasn’t used to withdrawing and becoming solitary. More than that, he didn’t want her to face that side of the world. Defending him was one thing, descending to that level was another. 

He was startled out of his thoughts as Loanna tugged at his sleeve. He swayed towards his sister, looking back at her. Loanna offered him a small smile. “I think they would want a break from here as well. It’s too beautiful to be stuck inside.”

“Fine. Go get the horses ready.”

Lonanna smiled wide before turning and running out of the parlor. Mikleo didn’t bother to remind her not to run, there was no point. Besides, it looked like everyone else was already spoken for, which meant that there was no one to impress. And, maybe, deep in his heart, he wanted Loanna to not worry about such things, at least for a while longer.

He shook his head at his own ridiculousness. Loanna was out, and she had had her seasons. That no one had approached was her own doing. His little sister could handle herself well enough without him hovering.

Mikleo followed after her at a more sedate pace. He would take the chance to escape from the crowd for a moment. If he couldn’t trust himself not to fall into old patterns with Sorey, this was the next best thing.

He strode out into the hallway, surprised by the way that the tension left him as soon as the voices faded. He staggered a bit, reaching out to press his hand against the wall as he shook his head. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention; he had always tucked himself away in the library or ignored everyone in favor of Sorey. Books and talks of adventures had always been more interesting than whatever small talk that the others managed.

Mikleo pushed away from the wall, walking towards the door at the back. He heard it slam shut, probably because Loanna. Mikleo was sure that, if he hurried out, he would see his sister sprinting for the barn. It almost made him jealous, that kind of freedom or lack of care about the world, but he didn’t say a word. He could just count down the time until Clem proposed and then he would be just as free.

He reached out to open the door, taking a deep breath of the outside air. It was fresh, Mikleo catching a hint of the flowers that the others were still coaxing to continue blooming. If he were closer to the kitchens, he would smell the herbs as well, a heady combination that he loved. The time that he hadn’t been sneaking around the estate with Sorey had been spent there, lending a hand and his artes to whatever was needed. With the Praetors and Shepherds over, there was little chance that anyone was there, which was disappointing. He needed something like that to calm himself today. 

Mikleo took another deep breath, intending to linger a little longer before going to offer his help but he was interrupted by the sound of the door shutting. Mikleo held his breath for a moment before turning to face whoever had followed him out.

For a moment, he hoped that it was Sorey, but instead he found himself facing Malfore’s bland smile.

Mikleo let his breath out in a rush, taking a step back, hoping that Malfore would go about his own business. Instead, Malfore seemed to read something different into it.

He quickly stepped down onto the lawn, reaching out for him. Mikleo flinched, stumbling back a few steps when Malfore attempted to reach for him again. That seemed to be the thing that made Malfore stop, the Praetor blinking at him in confusion before ducking his head slightly. “I apologize for startling you. I just saw you leave and I was worried…”

Apparently, he didn’t feel the need to explain what he was worried about. Mikleo waited for it nonetheless, staring at Malfore before giving up. Whatever Malfore expected from him, Mikleo wasn’t inclined to give it.

Malfore seemed to realize it at the same time. He cleared his throat, scraping his boot in the grass before he looked up at Mikleo again. “I was afraid that you weren’t feeling well, or I had scared you off with my talk of the war and politics.”

“You didn’t.” Mikleo rushed the words out almost as soon as Malfore finished, hoping it would be enough to get him to stop talking and leave him alone.

Instead, it seemed to encourage him. Malfore nodded slowly, talking another step forward. “That’s good. I didn’t intend to go too far. After all, you have lived a very sheltered life in these mountains.”

“Not particularly.”

“I think that’s a good thing.” Malfore went on like he hadn’t heard him. “There’s something charming and endearing about country seraphim, not so brash or jaded.”

“I doubt that.”

Malfore smiled, the expression sending a shiver down Mikleo’s spine. “Have you ever been to a city?”

Mikleo took a quick breath, but he didn’t respond. The answer should have been obvious if Malfore had been paying any attention to what the rest of the town had said. Mikleo wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He tilted his chin up, holding his ground as Malfore came closer. He regretted the decision when Malfore seemed to light up as he got closer. Mikleo shifted his weight back, tensing when Malfore grabbed his hand. 

“You should be grateful then.” Mikleo shivered as Malfore’s thumb ghosted over his knuckles. “The close contact with humans and their malevolence makes them harsher than country seraphim. It’s a sad state of affairs, but humans and seraphim must live together for things to remain at peace. And I was so glad to hear that you want to travel, because it fits perfectly.”

“Fits what?” Mikleo regretted asking the question, because Malfore’s hold tightened on his hand. He glanced down at it before wrenching his hand away, backing up to keep Malfore from grabbing at him again.

Malfore just smiled and kept advancing. “Marriage, of course.”

Mikleo felt himself run cold, sure that ice was gathering on his skin. He opened his mouth to laugh, or say something, but his words were frozen as well, stuck to his tongue and refusing to come out. Mikleo cleared his throat, having to work to get anything out. “What?”

“You must know that’s what I came here for, both me and…” Malfore waved his hand dismissively. “The others. Of course. St. Clair is assigned here, so she has time to make her choice, but the rest of us have duties that we cannot avoid. And everyone knows that the most powerful seraphim in Glenwood come from Elysia, and none are better suited to be Prime Lords than Lord Zenrus’ children. It’s just a shame that Lady Natalie was married so early, but there’s no real loss with you here. I’ve heard many good things about you, Lord Mikleo.”

It wasn’t the proper address, and it was the least of Mikleo’s worries, and yet it was the first that came to mind. Mikleo shook his head to chase the thought away, taking a few more stumbling steps backward. “Praetor Forton, I-”

“And you have proven them right with how you comport yourself. Your modesty and good sense is an example to every seraphim.”

“That’s not-”

“The moment I saw you I knew that there would be no other for me. The very night of the ball, I sent a message to the cardinal, my aunt, telling her that I had found my Prime Lord.”

“You what?!”

Malfore didn’t seem to have heard the shout. He just reached for Mikleo’s hand again, although Mikleo yanked it out of the way long before Malfore could get to it. Undeterred, Malfore tried again, his voice going soft and pleading. “My aunt is bringing the paperwork with her today, which means I don’t have to hold back any longer. So, I am here to bare my heart to you and ask for your place by my side as my Prime Lord, and your hand in mine as my husband.”

Mikleo stared at him after the announcement, his mind going blank with shock. He cast his mind back to his actions over the past few days, trying to remember what encouragement he had given Malfore. But there was nothing, just distance and trying to get away. If anything, Shiron had been the one trying to get the Praetor’s attention. The only thing he had given Malfore was barely withheld disdain.

The sound of Malfore clearing his throat made him jump, Mikleo staring at him. It was only then that Mikleo realized that he had been quiet instead of blurting out his disbelief. 

Mikleo shook his head. “No.”

Malfore tipped his head to the side, studying him for a moment before he grinned. “Oh, I see. There’s no need to be shy, we can extend the engagement if you desire.”

“No. My answer is no.”

“Are you worried about the scandal?” Mikleo sucked in a quick breath, enough of an answer that Malfore scooted forward. “Don’t worry, no one will have to know. No one would dare comment on it once we’re married. Lord Zenrus’ reputation and my family name will keep that from happening.”

“I said **_NO_**.” 

Mikleo felt an arte build and then release, not daring to look at what had happened. He didn’t trust Malfore not to do anything, least of all try his proposal for a third time. Mikleo could feel himself shaking at the thought of it, the distant pull at him feeling like the start to another arte half out of control, but he couldn’t stop that either. Everything felt like it was happening far away from himself, Malfore and his words too far away from the anger that he felt clawing at him.

Mikleo took a deep breath, and then another, but it didn’t help. Some part of him was sure that if he lashed out again it would help, but he held himself back. Nothing would help him if he hurt Malfore. That was the only thing worse than carrying on as he had with Sorey.

He met Malfore’s gaze, even though he wanted to turn and run as fast as he could. Any distance would be better than the way that they were standing. Any distance meant that they were still too close. Mikleo balled his hands into fists, raising his chin slightly. “My answer is no.”

Malfore stared, his mouth opening and shutting for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t believe that’s a wise choice.”

“It’s my choice.”

Malfore studied him for a moment before huffing and straightening out his coat. “Well then, I cannot imagine why you would insist on refusing, especially when there won’t be many other options.”

Mikleo lifted his chin, glaring at Malfore. “Who are you to say?”

“Not me, my aunt.” Malfore gave him a smile, one that felt like algae, slick and disgusting. Mikleo shuddered, his fingers curling as Malfore spoke up again. “All seraphim must be approved. And I’m afraid you don’t have much of a chance otherwise. Everyone in the Abby knows what happened.”

Mikleo felt a chill run down his spine, but he didn’t dare move an inch. Sorey had told him that the Abbey had found out, he had known that much, but he had never thought about what it would mean to be reflected back on him. Then again, it didn’t matter, because he only had one person that he was interested in. He squared his shoulders, meeting Malfore’s gaze.

Malfore watched him for a moment before shaking his head. “Mikleo, please. This is the only chance that you can enter society and have no one comment on your past. No one would dare scorn someone related to me or Cardinal Forton. We can protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting.”

“Mikleo-”

“My answer is final.”

Malfore looked him up and down before making a dismissive motion. “Fine. But know that you’re passing up your one chance to remove the scandal from your name, and your siblings’.”

He held himself still until Malfore had walked back into the house. It took more than he expected, Mikleo praying that Malfore didn’t see the shake of his fingers or notice the pulse of the artes that were building and breaking around him. 

The click of the door shutting was a release, Mikleo letting the breath that he had been holding rush out as he stumbled back. He could feel water trickling over his fingers, Mikleo heedless of it as he looked around. The day was still sunny and bright, but it somehow looked different. There was no enjoyment in it because Malfore had shattered it.

The very thought of the proposal made his skin crawl, Mikleo reaching up to scratch as his sleeves. He ignored the trail of wet lines that were left behind. The touch of his element helped, but only for a moment. The disgust was still there, creeping back in until Mikleo wanted to scream.

He swallowed around it, Mikleo staring at the door for a moment longer before turning on his heel. He managed to keep to a fast walk as he strode into the gardens, no thought in his head except escape, to walk until the feeling of something creeping over him. Mikleo brushed desperately at his arms, finally giving up and clutching at himself as he plunged into the garden.

Mikleo walked blindly, trusting his feet to take him deeper into the gardens. He was barely aware of carefully curated beds of flowers going past. They were quickly replaced with the high hedges, Mikleo following old, familiar paths. If he walked far enough in, he would get to the orchard. Beyond that it was the park land and finally the wild forest at the foot of the mountain. Somewhere in there was the entrance to Zenrus’ old shrine, the place he had lived before the first human had approached him to make a pact. It was far back on the property and, even better, less likely to be disturbed by anyone. He could hide in there until the twisting and turning of his mind stopped.

He reached up to clutch at his head, slowing his frantic pace. He was still furious about Malfore’s audacity in offering to him, especially after one conversation. Did he expect Mikleo to fall all over himself because he was a Praetor? Because he was related to Cardinal Forton? Because he was from the city? The idea made his stomach turn. He might have spent all of his life in the country, but he was not so naïve to be drawn in by a title. 

But was what more frightening was the threat. 

Mikleo knew that it might happen, he had known, but hearing it was something else. His sisters had never blamed him, and he was thankful for that. But was he thankful enough to give up on his plans?

Mikleo breathed out a curse and turned off of the path, stumbling into one of the hedges before he found a bench in a niche. He planted a hand on it, leaning his weight against it before he gave up. He slumped against the bench, missing the seat and instead sinking to his knees on the ground. Mikleo dropped his head against his arm, taking deep breaths.

It had only been a week, he’d only have to hold out a week, maybe a few days. Clem and Cynthia could have gotten their special license and he and Sorey could have slipped through. They could have gotten the banns read and slipped away with the good will of the town, or at least Clem’s influence as Praetor. Or they could have run.

They could still run, but the word would be out. Malfore would let drip his vicious reminders of what had happened, and there would be no rest. He was twice ruined, and his sisters would be worse off. If didn’t matter what they wanted. If Malfore had the ear of Cardinal Forton, then a few dropped words would be enough to ruin them. After all, the Abbey had to tread carefully now. There couldn’t be another Artorius.

He curled in on himself, pressing his forehead hard against his arm. There had to be something that he could do, because he refused to be cowed by this thing that had followed him for eight years. But it was hard to think of anything when he just wanted to scream.

Mikleo bit his lip, using the pressure to hold himself in check. The most he could do was shake until his anger and indignation was spent. Then maybe he could think his way out of the problem.

* * *

MIKLEO DIDN’T KNOW HOW LONG he stayed there, curled against the bench in the shelter of the bushes. It was just easier to lose himself in the misery that he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in for years.

The crunch of gravel caught his attention, Mikleo lifting his head. He listed for a moment before gathering the threads of an arte together. He could feel it shake and twist in his hands, the water coming to him slowly and inelegantly, but it would work to send Malfore away if he had decided to come back, or to chase away anyone else. He remained frozen like that until he heard Sorey calling for him.

“Mikleo?”

There was a hint of worry in his voice, which made Mikleo’s throat clog. 

Of course someone would have noticed, Sorey had seen him leave, and he would have seen Malfore leave. And Loanna had known that he was following. She had probably asked after him. Mikleo could only hope that she had sent Sorey and no one else.

Mikleo braced himself against the bench, about to push himself up when Sorey rounded the curve of the path.

It was no use in hoping that Sorey wouldn’t see where he was. Mikleo could only meet his gaze and sink into the relief that it was Sorey and he was alone. He didn’t think that he could face anyone else.

Sorey stared at him for a moment before rushing over. He reached down like he was doing to help Mikleo up, but Mikleo quickly waved his hands away. “I’m fine.”

Sorey went still and Mikleo muttering a curse under his breath. He knew that pose and that face, it was a Sorey that was insulted and hurt, which wasn’t his intention. He turned his head to press it against his arm. Mikleo stayed like that for a moment before turning his head and relenting. “I’m sorry.”

He watched as Sorey remained standing, worry twisting his stomach when he realized that Sorey wasn’t moving. For a horrible moment, he was afraid that Sorey would turn on his heel and walk away. He wouldn’t have before, but it had been eight years, even if they had slid back together like no time had passed. But he had spent eight years thinking about the physical distance, not any other kind.

Sorey remained frozen for a moment more before dropping to his knees beside him. He offered his hand, but Mikleo was already reaching out to take it. There was something comforting about sliding his fingers between Sorey’s and holding tight. He squeezed Sorey’s hand, that enough to coax a sigh from Sorey. 

“I was worried. I saw you leave with Loanna and then Malfore followed.”

Mikleo huffed. “He was presumptuous. He proposed.”

Sorey jerked upright, only going the distance that their joined hands allowed before he settled down again. Even then, he was practically vibrating in place. “He…But he knows.”

“I don’t think he cares.” Mikleo raised one shoulder in a shrug, preferring that to breaking out in the uncomfortable laughter he could feel bubbling at the back of his throat. “He just wants the prestige of having a grandchild of Lord Zenrus has his partner. He said he would take Natalie if she wasn’t married.”

“So you were just the next on the list?”

Mikleo nodded slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as Sorey squeezed his hand again. “I said no.”

“I never doubted you.”

Mikleo sighed, fighting the urge to press his face into his arm again. It would be easier to hide. The two of them could just stay out here, not forever, but long enough. At least until Sorey had to go on his circuit, and then Sorey would slip through his fingers again unless he really ran away this time. But that still left the problem of his siblings. He had two sisters who deserved better than to be left on the shelf until the humans forgot about his behavior. Shiron needed something better before being confined and having their names spoken in the same breath soured his personality more.

He pushed away from the bench, sitting cross-legged in the grass. Across from him, Sorey mirrored his position. Mikleo stared at Sorey, taken aback by the wave of want that he felt. 

It wasn’t exactly like when he had been younger, although the need to have Sorey skin to skin was still there. He also just wanted Sorey by his side with a desperation that he had never known before. 

Mikleo took a deep breath, reaching out his other hand to grab onto Sorey’s free hand. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do, but he didn’t dare latch onto Sorey more fully, it was too tempting. Then again, with the way things were going, he might as well have just clung onto Sorey and damn the consequences.

The corner of his mouth twitched up, Mikleo stopping himself from the full self-deprecating smile. It would solve nothing. Instead, he let his chin drop to his chest, Mikleo speaking to his lap rather than Sorey. “He said that he was my last chance for respectability.”

He meant to ask if it was true, but he got his answer before he could say anything. Sorey flinched and grabbed at his hands more tightly. Mikleo huffed, glancing up at him. “So, it’s true?”

Sorey shifted in place, looking uncomfortable. In Mikleo’s experience, it was either because he was trying to figure out if he wanted to lie or if it was because he didn’t agree with what he was saying. Sorey’s fingers played over the back of Mikleo’s hands, almost like Sorey was trying to soothe him as he spoke. “Cardinal Forton is strict on things looking…seemly.”

“Which we aren’t.”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Sorey shook his head. “It’s not like she can do anything else to me, Maotelus has already accepted me as a Shepherd. Not even she can do anything about it.”

“Well, that’s a relief. So, what do we do about it?”

Sorey opened and shut his mouth, seeming stumped by the question. He tried for a moment longer before shaking his head. “I don’t know, but she’s visiting today.”

Mikleo bit his lip, glancing back in the direction of the house. They were almost out of their allotted time, or Malfore would be so angered by Mikleo’s refusal that he would demand that all of them leave with him. Mikleo’s first impulse was to grab Sorey and run into the depths of the old shrine, because no one would follow them there, but that was a childish impulse. The best thing would be to go back to the house and carefully ignore Malfore. Thankfully, good manners meant that Malfore wouldn’t bring it up. Then again, good manners meant that Malfore wouldn’t have brought up the scandal.

He ducked his head, his hair failing forward into his face. He must have messed up the careful tail that he had pulled his hair back into that morning. In a panic, he reached back to touch the ribbon, hoping that he hadn’t lost it. It didn’t matter so much now that Sorey was back, he didn’t need the ribbon to remind him of Sorey’s eyes. But it was special for the eight years of longing.

His fingers found the end of it, Mikleo stroking over the frayed edges before he sighed. The ribbon was still there and askew, but that could be fixed. It would have to be when he went back in because he refused to be anything but put together. He wouldn’t get Malfore the satisfaction.

Mikleo went still when Sorey reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, Sorey’s fingers lingering against his cheek before he pulled back in a slow drag. Mikleo rocked after him, stopping a hairsbreadth from Sorey’s lips. It hurt to stop, more than it ever had, and Mikleo hated it. He hated everything that he was having to do, along with the necessity of it, all because humans couldn’t allow them this.

He squeezed Sorey’s hand before letting go, reaching behind him to start to fix his hair. Mikleo raked his hair back into the queue that he usually wore it, very much aware that Sorey was watching him. Mikleo felt himself blush, trying to ignore it. Sorey had seen him getting dressed after far more intimate encounters before, but never this. This felt far more intimate than anything else they had done.

Mikleo tugged the ribbon into place, making sure that it was secure and that all the frayed ends were at least presentable. He froze when Sorey reached out to pull something from his hair, Mikleo staring at the green string before Sorey set it aside.

“There.”

Mikleo swallowed hard, having to take a moment to resettle himself. “Am…am I presentable.”

Sorey tipped his head to the side, studying him for a moment before reaching out to brush his thumb over Mikleo’s cheek. Mikleo’s eyes widened at the smooth glide. He hadn’t known that he had been crying, which almost made him angry. 

There was no reason to cry over it, Malfore wasn’t worth the tears.

Mikleo ducked his head as Sorey finished brushing the tear away, feeling his cheeks heat up again as Sorey’s touch lingered. It was like he was young and easily flustered again, and Mikleo wasn’t sure that he liked it. He huffed when Sorey chuckled, reaching out to give him a light push that did nothing more than made Sorey rock in place. “It’s nothing.”

“If you say so.” There was a hint of teasing in Sorey’s voice, something that Mikleo desperately needed. The world wasn’t ending. His world wasn’t ending, he wouldn’t let it go so easily.

He looked up as Sorey got to his feet, quick to take the hand offered to him. It didn’t have the same joy because their gloves blocked their skin, but that propriety wouldn’t separate them forever. Mikleo was going to make sure of that. He had to.

He squeezed Sorey’s hand, refusing to let go in favor of the more proper position of his hand on Sorey’s arm. He wasn’t in the mood for pretending, not when he was sure that Malfore would try to propose to him again. At least this way Mikleo wouldn’t be able to just punch Malfore in the face as quickly. That might be too much.

Mikleo gave Sorey a nod, not trusting his voice or his own legs. The urge to run with Sorey into the ruins and stay there until everyone forgot about them was still strong. They would be safe there until one of his family started to search his childhood hiding spots, and then it would be all over. “Lohgrin is looking better and better.”

Sorey hummed, Mikleo only realizing that he had spoken then. He glanced over at Sorey, watching him work the idea over before looking at Mikleo. “Plan B?”

“Probably.” Mikleo felt a thrill saying it, even as he fought against his own foreboding. 

If Cardinal Forton was coming to Camlann, then there would be no time for the news to reach her, so there was no time to warn anyone. Not unless they warned everyone of their elopement. Mikleo chuckled, shaking his head. That had probably never happened in the history of unhappy humans and seraphim. The whole point of a Lohgrin marriage was that no permission had been granted and they had no other choice. Mikleo didn’t think that he and Sorey were that desperate, at least not yet.

He startled out of his thoughts when Sorey bumped their shoulders. Mikleo turned to look at him, surprised when Sorey leaned in for a quick kiss. Mikleo stared at him, surprised by Sorey’s daring. They were still slightly hidden by the gardens, but on the path. Anyone walking by could have seen them. Then again, it shouldn’t have mattered, but Mikleo couldn’t quite quiet his fear. He stroked his thumb alongside Sorey’s hand, trying to focus enough on the motion that he could chase the thoughts away.

It was comfort enough to just walk with Sorey, although it didn’t last long enough for him. He hadn’t gotten too deep into the gardens. The sight of the manor made Mikleo clutch at Sorey’s hand, not wanting to let go. He felt Sorey squeeze back, his touch lingering a moment longer before Sorey’s hand slipped away. Mikleo made an aborted grab for it, but stopped himself. They were too close and Malfore was bound to be paying attention.

Mikleo sighed, letting himself slump for a moment before drawing himself up. Maybe refusing Malfore in front of people would be enough to get him to finally stop. If not, then he would have all of Elysia coming after him. Of course, they would have to wait for Mikleo to get done with him.

Surreptitiously, he reached out towards the river, testing the flow of the water. If he needed to, he would dump the whole thing on Malfore, because he was not going to stand for being treated like something that could be bought and sold.

Sorey must have sensed something because he looked over, Mikleo pointedly not meeting Sorey’s gaze. He didn’t want to give too much of himself away, at least not until he needed to do anything.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, pausing halfway through when the door opened up. He was surprised to see Natalie looking out. He would have thought that she would have taken the chance to ride, or have snuck away to write to Mason. After all, another letter had come in but Natalie had been interrupted by the arrival of the Praetors and Shepherds.

He didn’t have long to wonder at her appearance before Natalie was waving to him. Mikleo stared at her for a moment before crossing the yard at a run. 

Mikleo hopped up the steps, catching the door as she swung it further open. He braced himself there, looking down the hallway. Mikleo frowned when nothing immediately appeared. He could even hear the easy conversation drifting from the parlor. Mikleo stared into the hallway for a moment more, looking up at Natalie. “What happened?”

“I thought I should catch you before you and Loanna got far. I don’t think that anyone will get the chance to ride today.” Mikleo wasn’t sure if he really saw a look of disapproval cross her face, because it was gone too soon. Natalie just reached out to grab his arm and pulled him inside. “Sorey, I think it would be good if you came too.”

Mikleo looked back at Sorey, sure that his shocked expression matched Sorey’s. Mikleo could only hope that Sorey didn’t jump to the same conclusion that he had. There was nothing that would stop Malfore from declaring that Mikleo had accepted, and Mikleo wanted to rush in before the idea because too established.

He pulled away from Natalie, setting off down the hall at a run. Mikleo heard footsteps behind him as Sorey followed, some part of him glad that Sorey wasn’t hanging behind. But another part wished that he wasn’t following. He wished that no one would be waiting for him when he stumbled into the parlor to confront whatever Malfore had declared while he had been hiding in the garden. The less people to see this, the better. Then Malfore might be inclined to actually walk away. With so many people watching, he was going to be humiliated.

Mikleo stumbled around the base of the grand staircase, turning towards the parlor. He could hear clearly enough to catch individual words, but it was nothing that he expected. Every seraphim in Elysia knew about him and Sorey, it would have been impossible to keep it from his family. But that didn’t explain why they were all offering congratulations. They knew him better than that.

Or he hoped that they did.

He rushed into the parlor, coming to an abrupt stop at the sight Malfore standing in front of the fireplace, a triumphant smile on his face and Shiron’s hand in his.

Mikleo stared at their arms, trying to make sense of it, but there was nothing. Shiron would never allow himself that close to anyone. Everything his brother did was carefully measured for propriety. And yet here he was, hand-in-hand with the Praetor and pressed up against his side with a wide smile on his face. Shiron’s smile only grew when he noticed Mikleo.

Shiron rubbed his cheek against Malfore’s shoulder before pushing away slightly. “Mikleo! I wondered if we would have to ride out to find you and Loanna to give you the news!”

“That’s why I left earlier, dearest.” Malfore patted Shiron’s hand. “I tried to go and catch the two of them before they got too far. I only found Mikleo, but I thought your brother would pass would pass the word on. I guess your sister was too far ahead.”

Shiron accepted the lie with a nod, his wide grin never faulting. “She’ll learn soon enough. Besides, the news gets better with the sharing.” Shiron turned to look at Mikleo, something like a look of triumph mingling with his genuine happy expression. “Praetor Forton asked me to marry him.”

“What?”

Shiron didn’t seem to notice his question. He was lost looking up at Malfore. “That’s why Cardinal Forton is coming. He sent her a notice the night of the ball, because he just knew that it was meant to be. She’s coming with a special license so we can be married and enter into a pact as soon as possible.”

Mikleo was sure that his brother was waiting for a response, but all he could do was stare at the proprietary way that Malfore patted Shiron’s hand and feel sick.

It wouldn’t have taken long from his rejection to Malfore’s next proposal. It had probably gotten all sorted out while he was panicking in the garden. And Cardinal Forton was so close that Shiron would never know the difference. He would go through his life not knowing until Malfore inevitably moved on, because that’s what would happen. If Malfore cared so little about who he made a pact with and married, then it was likely that he would find someone else. And that would break Shiron, who had spent his life reading romances and dreaming up a perfect life for himself.

Mikleo curled his fingers into a fist, holding himself steady as he looked between the two. If he said anything, then Shiron would hate him. Then again, he already did.

He sucked in a quick breath, taking a step forward. Shiron just peered at him, but it was the sudden attention by Malfore that made a shiver go down his spine. There was an invitation there, like Malfore expected him to make a grand announcement that he had changed his mind. That was more than enough to spur him on, for his brother’s sake.

“Shiron, you can’t.”

He flinched a bit at the hurt sound that Shiron made the moment before Shiron dropped Malfore’s hand. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

Mikleo shot a glance over at Malfore, discomforted by the way that Malfore didn’t look at all disturbed. Instead, he just reached out to brush his fingers over Shiron’s shoulder. It could have been meant in comfort, but it looked too much like possession, which made him bristle. Mikleo took a step closer to his brother, stopping short of reaching out to grab him. “Because he’s lying to you. He didn’t ask me anything about you. He asked me to marry him first, and then he came in here to propose to you when I wouldn’t have him.”

Malfore gasped, but the sound seemed strained to Mikleo’s ears. If the rest of his family had any reaction, he didn’t hear it, and he didn’t dare look away. He just watched as Shiron went pale.

“Why would you say that?” Shiron’s expression abruptly changed, going from shocked to anger.

Mikleo was taken aback by it. He had expected some anger, it was all that Shiron had shown him for the past eight years. But he had expected something like before, from when they had trusted each other. But maybe all of that was spent too.

Mikleo swallowed, feeling the eyes in the room on him. What he wanted to do was to shrink away, but there was nowhere to hide. He could always retreat back to Sorey’s side, but something told him that Shiron wouldn’t allow that. Besides, backing down wouldn’t help anything, Shiron would still go with Malfore and the problem would still be there.

He took a deep breath, intending to push on when Shiron made a sharp motion with his hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Shiron-”

“NO! You’re always doing this!” 

Mikleo took a step back in the face of his brother’s vehemence. He had never thought Shiron would go so far, not when there were people outside of their family present. But, apparently, he had pushed Shiron far enough to forget even that.

Shiron glared at him, looking like he wanted to reach out and shake him, but he held himself back with obvious effort. “You’re always trying to get your way with things. Always. First with Sorey, then every time you didn’t want to go somewhere because you were ashamed. And you got away with it, because you were always Gramps’ favorite. Now you can’t stand the idea that the rest of us will get married out of turn.”

“That’s not it.” Mikleo struggled with the words, very aware of the eyes on him. He should have done this somewhere else, somewhere private. But he didn’t think that Shiron would have let himself be dragged away. This was the limelight that he loved above all else, even in this. He swallowed hard, tipping his chin up. “He’s not being honest with you.”

“About what?”

“About what he talked to me about.” Mikleo glanced over at Malfore, anger rushing through him when Malfore schooled his expression into careful blankness. He took a step forward, wanting very much to shake Malfore, but Shiron stepped between them. Mikleo looked down at his little brother, relieved at the distance. It just meant that this part could just be between the two of them. “He didn’t talk to me about you outside. He really did propose to me.”

He watched Shiron’s eyes widen. That he didn’t act immediately was a relief. Mikleo had expected some push back from Shiron, especially when they had been at odds with each other for so long. That he was silent could only mean that he was listening.

Then a gust of wind sent him stumbling back, Mikleo yelping in surprise. He fetched up against a chair, clutching at it for balance as he stared at his brother.

Shiron didn’t seem to have noticed that he had used an arte in the first place. He was shaking in place, his face bright red. Then, Shiron was stepping forward, herding him further back against the chair. Mikleo found himself scrambling for a better hold, staring at his little brother.

Shiron took a deep breath, one that seemed to rattle through the parlor with a warning. “You’re making this up.”

Mikleo stiffened, shocked and insulted by the acquisition. “Why would I lie to you?”

“You lied about Sorey before!” Shiron gestured wildly back to where Sorey was still standing. “You spent eight years being mad that someone finally reminded you of the proper behavior and what you should have been doing. And you’re going to do the same to me, for revenge.”

“It’s not revenge, it’s-”

“You just want the satisfaction of having what was done to you done to someone else. And it’s me because I didn’t indulge you in your shame.”

Mikleo tightened his hold on the chair, shaking his head. What he was trying to do was nothing like Gramps and the others had done. He was just trying to make sure that Shiron would be happy. Malfore obviously didn’t care about him, just the title that would follow him. He and Sorey were nothing alike. Besides, Shiron had barely knew Malfore.

As did Cynthia and Clem.

Mikleo fought the urge to glance their way because he didn’t want to drag them into this. He was strong enough to stand against whatever Shiron threw at him. He had run out of shame on that count eight years ago.

He tipped his chin up, meeting his brother’s gaze. “You know that’s not true. I’m just looking out for you.”

“By ruining everything that I’ve ever wanted? You’ve done a fine job of that. You’ve been nothing but-”

“Shiron…love.” The term of endearment came slowly, like Malfore wasn’t sure if he could use it. Or if he had forgotten that they were engaged. 

Mikleo narrowed his eyes at Malfore, not surprised that the man was looking at him instead of Shiron. Even his brief brush over Shiron’s shoulder seemed perfunctory and like a second thought. Mikleo glanced around the room to see if anyone else had seen it, but they were all occupying themselves with something else. He thought he saw Dezel’s attention move his way briefly, but then Rose was tugging him away.

The movement stopped the stalemate. Malfore made a relieved noise, Mikleo turning back in time to see him waving at Rose. “Ah, yes. Thank you for the reminder Shepherd…” Malfore let the title hang before waving again, this time more imperiously. “We should be going. Cardinal Forton will be here soon enough, and my aunt will love to meet my chosen seraph.”

The last part was not delivered with any fondness. In fact, it was practically shouted, like Malfore needed to make sure that everyone knew just who he was marrying. 

Shiron preened all the same, tucking him up against Malfore’s side. He shot a glare at Mikleo, quick to loop his arm through Malfore’s. “It’s only right that I meet with my future family. And I won’t be without a chaperone. Cynthia should come, if she’s serious about her suit.”

Cynthia shot a poisonous glare at Shiron, but she didn’t move away from where she was holding onto Clem’s arm. “I don’t see what a cardinal of Rolance has to do with anything, but I can at least keep you from making a fool of yourself.”

“You may try, but you haven’t succeeded yet.” Shiron tipped his head, his gaze sliding back over to Mikleo.

Mikleo tensed, but didn’t allow himself to do more. These were the barbs he knew best how to ignore; they had been thrown at him for years. He had to pretend to ignore them. To let anyone see that they hit would make it all the worse. If they realized that he could be shamed, it wouldn’t end.

Shiron took a step forward, his chin held high. He and Malfore passed close to him, Mikleo expected them to move just a bit further around the chair, but Shiron lagged enough that Malfore had to nearly come to a stop.

His brother fixed him with a long look, the close distance enough to allow Mikleo to see the slight tremble in Shiron’s jaw. It was a sign of worry, something so slight that you had to look to notice it. Mikleo shot an annoyed looked at Malfore. 

He didn’t expect Malfore to notice, that sort of thing wouldn’t occur to him. But it should. If he was going to at least play the loving fiancé, then Malfore had to at least give a passing nod to the part. If he didn’t, Shiron would notice. He _had_ to notice.

Mikleo was startled out of his thoughts when Shiron cleared his throat. The tremble was gone, replaced with determination and a fury that Mikleo didn’t ever remember seeing on Shiron’s face.

“There’s a different order to things, now that I’m engaged.”

Mikleo looked at the space between them. It wasn’t like he was in Shiron’s way, which meant that his brother was trying to make a point. Or at least trying to win back something from him. The problem was that there was no victory.

He swallowed, fighting the urge to reach out to his brother. “Shiron-” 

Shiron hesitated, which gave him hope. This wasn’t irreversible. They could forgive each other and maybe go and talk on their own. Then Shiron’s jaw tensed, and Mikleo felt the moment slip away entirely. 

His brother lifted his chin slightly, giving him a cold look. “I go first now, Mikleo, since I’m engaged. Right after Natalie. You’re…somewhere else.”

Mikleo tensed, feeling a chill run down his spine. This was not something to argue about, because precedence didn’t matter to him. What mattered was the dismissal, the distance that it put between them.

He sagged back against the chair as Shiron paraded past. Mikleo watched him, surprised by how much it hurt that Shiron wouldn’t look at him. He had been ignored before, but it was always a quick slide of the eyes across him, at least some acknowledgement, even if it was grudging. This was like he wasn’t even there. Malfore was the only one who looked back, Mikleo surprised by the look of pity on his face. 

Malfore studied him for a moment before nodding his head. “I will put in a good word with my aunt.”

Mikleo felt his mouth go dry. It shouldn’t have felt like a threat, not with the mild tone, but Mikleo was sure it was as good as one. Shiron would tell the cardinal everything, and she wouldn’t want to let a seraph like him enter into the order. She would stop everything in its tracks.

He reached behind him to grip the chair, feeling like it was the only thing that was holding him up. Before, in the garden, there had at least been a chance of getting away from this without further scandal or tainting of the family name. Now there was nothing, and he couldn’t even do anything to try and stop it from reaching Cynthia. 

“Sorey.”

Mikleo looked up in surprise at Sorey’s name, shocked to see that he had inched into the room. Sorey looked like he was going to reach out to him. Mikleo wanted badly to grab for him, but he was prevented when Rose swept towards them. Mikleo felt a brisk rush of wind after her. He could see Rose leaning in to speak to Sorey, her gaze flicking back to him every once and awhile. It wasn’t comforting, because he couldn’t read her expression, but Sorey trusted her.

He slumped against the chair, only tearing his gaze away from where they were leaving when he heard the floorboards creak. Mikleo turned in time to see Cynthia rushing over to him.

His sister grabbed onto his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Ignore him.”

“I can’t.”

“For now.” Cynthia frowned, looking away. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Mikleo twisted his arm, grabbing onto her sleeve as she went to move away. Cynthia jerked to a stop, Mikleo holding her steady until he was sure that she was paying attention to him. “Not at your own expense.” She stared at him, Mikleo feeling sick at her incomprehension. He grabbed for a tighter hold on her sleeve. “Cynthia, nothing that will put you in danger.”

Cynthia opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but whatever it was she thought better. She reached down to touch his hand, tapping his fingers until he let her go. 

Mikleo waited for her to agree, but was surprised when she just turned and walked to where Clem was waiting for her. Cynthia took Clem’s arm and followed after without looking back, which made Mikleo’s knees shake. 

He reached back for the chair, using it to hold him up as the group left. The whole parlor seemed to be in the same state as he was because he didn’t hear anyone moving to talking, not until the door had closed behind them.

Then, it was like an arte has been lifted. A few of the seraphim rushed out, probably to continue their work or spread the word. Family arguments aside, it was good news when one of them got engaged, especially to a Praetor. Mikleo watched them go, feeling his throat go tight.

It should have been good news, especially because it was everything that Shiron wanted. But he still couldn’t convince himself.

Mikleo jumped when he felt a hand on his arm, looking down at Zenrus. Mikleo swallowed hard, trying to get his throat to work. 

He managed to croak out something that could have been Zenrus’ name, but that was all that his grandfather seemed to need. Zenrus nodded and patted his arm again. “That was…poorly done.”

“But-”

“I didn’t say you weren’t right but, perhaps not in front of so many people.”

Mikleo ducked his head, staring at the floor. “I don’t think he would have believed me otherwise.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But he never will now.”

That was the worst part, the part that Mikleo hadn’t let himself think about. He curled his hands into fists, holding the tension there before letting it rush out. It didn’t matter, his reputation would proceed him wherever he went. That alone would tip the scales in Malfore’s favor. Besides, Shiron was mad enough at him to exaggerate anything.

He worried at his lip, glancing up again at Zenrus. “It’s true though.”

Zenrus sighed, stepping away. “I believe you. But Shiron is of age, and does not need my permission to marry.”

“But the banns-”

“Malfore will get a special license. It would be remarked upon otherwise.” Zenrus paused, Mikleo watching his shoulders slump. For a moment, he looked centuries old and Mikleo felt guilty because of it.

“Gramps, I-”

“You mean well, I know. And you’ve handled all of this far better than I guessed you would. I half expected you to run away to Pendrago, or become a recluse, but you’ve done neither. You’ve meant well.”

“Will it help?”

“I don’t know, Mikleo. I don’t know.”

That didn’t help the dread that consumed him, Mikleo staring at his grandfather before ducking his head. He hadn’t been scolded, but it felt like he had. It felt like he should have been.

He nodded, turning it into a semi-bow to his grandfather. It was the kind of exactness that they never bothered with. It was a human thing that they had learned, but Mikleo felt it was needed. From the look on Zenrus’ face, he hadn’t expected it, but his grandfather said nothing on the subject. He was allowed his retreat, Mikleo glad of it. It was bad enough with the seraphim that were glancing at him and then looking away. 

Mikleo didn’t know if they agreed with him or not, that was something that he would hear eventually. And he would have the time to do it. He didn’t think that he would be getting away from Elysia for a long time.

Mikleo paused at the foot of the stairs, a chill running down his spine. He turned to look at the door. It was the original, old oak and solid. It had never looked so confining, so final. It wasn’t like he was going to be trapped in Elysia, he would be able to go out again. But the surety that things would go well was gone; it was either his happiness of his family’s, and that was a choice that he couldn’t bring himself to make.

He reached out to steady himself on the railing, holding onto it tightly. The world didn’t feel changed or like it was spinning, but it felt like something was over, something ripped apart and something that he wouldn’t be able to fix. Mikleo gripped the railing hard, watching the ice spread out from his fingers with a strange feeling of detachment.

“Mikleo?”

His head jerked up at the sound of his name, Mikleo staring down at where Natalie was standing. She peered up at him with a sympathetic look, one that had always sent him running to her before. His sister would understand, she always had. Even if he would bring nothing but problems to her.

The ice cracked, the sound loud in the hallway. Mikleo startled at it, staring at the shards that were falling away from the railing to shatter on the floor, too shocked to melt them and call the water back. He could have, but he was too slow. Just like he was too slow to understand it all.

It didn’t matter what his intentions were. No matter how good he tried to be, no matter how much he toed the line, no matter how much he tried to protect his family, the end result would be the same. He couldn’t take back the scandal of being caught with Sorey, couldn’t undo the time that everyone had waited to see if it could be buried. It didn’t matter that Camlann had gone from shocked to uncaring, it was the first thing that would come up every time. It would ruin everything just the same.

Mikleo took a step back, swallowing back the sour taste in his mouth. He thought he heard Natalie call his name, but he ignored his sister in favor of giving in and rushing up the stairs.

* * *

THE MUSICAL SOUND OF WATER running through the fountains was an endless background noise, almost annoying enough for Mikleo to want to make them silent. But lifting up his hand to make it happen was too much. Everything beyond laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling was too much. 

Mikleo closed his eyes, trying to block out the familiar sights of his room, but that didn’t help. Staring at the fountains or shelves or not, his mind still stumbled through the same cycle of thoughts before going blank. Mikleo sighed, rolling over to press his face against the pillows.

He was tired of thinking of ways around his problem, of being the one trying to fix something he wasn’t properly ashamed of. The only thing he was ashamed of was being so easily caught.

Mikleo groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. It didn’t help, but he hadn’t expected it to help at all. After all, he had been through all of his options, and none of them worked. 

It was a choice between letting go of what he had dreamed about all of his life or making things difficult for his family. Neither was an option that he wanted to entertain. He had tried to come up with a third way, which left him hiding away in Elysia, waiting for Sorey to come back through, which didn’t suit him either. That was just another kind of giving up and bending to expectations.

He curled in on himself, tempted to place the pillow on his head, like that would be enough to drown out the worst of it. The thoughts would still be there, circling around louder and louder until he wanted to shout them into silence.

Maybe walking or riding would have helped, but Mikleo had the horrible feeling that once he started, he wouldn’t stop. He’d find Sorey and just keep going without saying goodbye. He didn’t know where Sorey’s assigned circuit was, but it didn’t matter. It would keep him away, far away until everyone that remembered what had happened would be gone. By that point, he would have no reason to stay away either.

He opened his eyes, watching his fingers twitch on the sheets. The urge was still there, bubbling under his skin. He could pack in five minutes, and find a horse. Neither Shiron nor Cynthia were back yet, which meant that he had a chance to sneak away while everyone kept themselves busy. It would mean that they would be at his destination, but he knew the back trails. He and Sorey had explored them when they were young, looking at the old house and its architecture and looking for the old well that Praetor Artorius was said to have thrown his wife into to turn her into a seraph. They have never found it, but they had explored many of the old paths. Mikleo was sure that he remembered enough to get him and Sorey in and out. Besides, they would have an ally with Clem. She certainly wouldn’t stop them. Then they could go…somewhere. They could live out their dreams of roaming Glenwood as a Shepherd and his seraph.

And he wouldn’t come back for decades.

Mikleo winced, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He could hear the distant sound of voices from the house, a reminder of the reason he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. He had his family here.

Then again, he couldn’t just leave Sorey to wander the world without him. It had been hard enough to stay in place for eight years. It had only been because he didn’t have an available vessel that he had stayed. 

If Sorey was going to leave again, he might be desperate enough to make one.

Mikleo opened his eyes and pushed himself upright. He glanced around his room, looking beyond the books and the clothes that he hadn’t gotten around to hanging up. There were a few knickknacks interspersed on the selves, things that had been given to him by thankful tenants, members of his family or Sorey. They had probably absorbed enough of his mana to be compatible. At least long enough for the proper pacts to be made.

He edged to the side of the bed, hesitating from getting up. If he made this decision, there was no going back, except that Mikleo was almost sure that he had already made it. He had made it the day he had knelt in the drive and watched Sorey’s carriage drive away.

Not again.

The sound of boots on the stairs startled him, Mikleo shooting to his feet. He barely had the time to wonder who was in a rush when the door to his room was shoved open.

Mikleo yelped and startled backward, twisting around to see who had barged in.

Cynthia stood in the doorway, still in her riding habit and with a pair of saddlebags slung over her shoulder.

Mikleo stared at her for a moment, trying to make sense of her sudden appearance before sitting up in bed. “Cynthia, what are you doing?!” He pushed himself off the edge of the bed, rushing over to her. “I thought Cardinal Forton would approve.”

“She did.” Cynthia unslung the saddlebags from her shoulder, holding them out. “This is about you.”

Mikleo stared at the saddlebags, completely lost for a moment. Then he understood, and his stomach swooped. “No.”

Cynthia didn’t seem to hear him, because she had walked in and headed to his wardrobe. She fished around in one of the bags, pulling out something and dropping it on his desk. Mikleo heard it thump, but he didn’t get the time to look at it before Cynthia was pulling clothes out of his wardrobe. Some she immediately tossed to the floor, others she studied for longer before folding them up and starting a pile on the desk.

Mikleo watched her for a moment before he managed to shake himself out of the shock. He crossed the room, reaching out to touch her shoulder only for Cynthia to reach up and lightly brush his hand off.

“Not now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.” Cynthia studied another shirt before sighing and folding it. The shirt went on the pile before she turned to look at him, a hint of a smile crossing his face. “What does it look like?”

Mikleo glanced at the pile, suddenly finding that he couldn’t look away. “Yes, but why for me.”

“I told you, Cardinal Forton didn’t agree. She believed Malfore and Shiron, so she’s made her decision.”

“Oh.” Mikleo didn’t know why it hit him so hard; he had known that from the start. Cardinal Forton was known for her determination to drag the Praetors and Shepherds back to respectability. Without a cardinal of their own, Cardinal Forton was the one that they could turn to, and she had given her answer.

He stepped to the side, pulling out the chair at his desk and sinking into it. He dropped his head into his hands, holding it there as he let the disappointment roll through him. It was a strange mix, the acknowledgement that he would have to give up on his dream, delay it again, or ignore everything and just charge away.

The sound of Cynthia dropping another shirt onto the pile made him look up. Mikleo glanced at the growing pile before resting a hand on it. “Cynthia, stop.”

“I’m almost done and then-”

“Stop.”

That finally got Cynthia to look at him, one of his jackets dangling from her hands. Mikleo held her gaze for a moment before shaking his head. “Thank you, but,” He paused, long enough to make sure that his voice didn’t shake or break, “I knew this would come. I’m fine.”

Cynthia stared at him in silence, Mikleo sure that he had gotten through to her this time, and it was a relief. If she accepted that, then he didn’t need to go on. It was the repetition that was the most wearing, the truths that he had to deliver with a lie of a smile, like he believed it all and accepted it gracefully.

Mikleo turned away from her, reaching out to grab the pile. “If the cardinal approved, then we should start celebrating. It’s not often that we have two of us getting married. And Natalie’s marriage was when you were really young, so you weren’t awake for much of the celebration for her. I’m sure this time-”

“Stop it!”

Cynthia slammed her hand down on the pile of clothes, forcing it back down to the desk as she leaned her weight on it. Mikleo grunted as his hands were trapped between the clothes and what felt like a book underneath. He went to tug his hands away only for Cynthia to lean more of her weight on it.

“You always do this. Always. Even when we all know how much you’ve wanted this. Every time you just…crumble. And you don’t have to.”

Mikleo wiggled his hands free from under the clothes. Cynthia let him do that much, but she kept glaring at him, like she expected him to try something else. Mikleo just leaned on the chair, looking at her for a long moment before shaking his head. “I do have to.”

“Why?”

“Because it will reflect on you, all of you. And it already has.” Cynthia snorted, Mikleo reaching out to grab her arm. “Listen, Mason hasn’t found work yet.”

“It’s after the war, not a lot of people are buying jewelry. It’s not your fault.”

“For a while it was. And it will be again if this gets out. Then where would that leave you and Clem?”

Cynthia recoiled, backing up until she bumped into the wardrobe. She reached out to stop the door from closing on her, Mikleo seeing her hand shake before she got a good grip on the door. 

“No.”

“I’ve been through this once before. I can handle the shame and being shunned from society. It’s just an excuse to stay back and read. But you and Loanna can’t. You like the balls and parties, and Loanna needs to talk to her contacts. Natalie and Mason could live here if they wanted, but Mason will eventually want to practice his craft and you know Natalie misses it as well.” He shrugged carefully, trying to keep the motion smooth and not halting. Speaking was easier, if only because he had said them so many times to himself. “I can always sneak away, after you and Clem are married and everything has calmed down.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Mikleo felt his mouth go dry, but he forced himself to swallow and keep going. “No one in Elysia cares, but the people will forget about it soon enough.”

“When they die.”

“I can outlast them.”

Mikleo expected reluctance or annoyance from his sister. It was the usual response any time he was stubborn. Instead, Cynthia stared at him in silence for a moment before her expression twisted into such anger that Mikleo recoiled in the face of it.

Cynthia didn’t seem to notice, not really. She was too busy leaning forward to close the distance between them again. “Sorey will be dead by then. You realize that.”

Mikleo bit his lip, barely catching a whimper. It wasn’t something he let himself linger on. Seraphim were long lived, and humans like a blink to their thousands of years. That Sorey was a Shepherd was some consolation. 

Everything had a cycle, an ebb and flow. Humans would come back, the same soul but different experiences over and over until they became seraphim. If Sorey hadn’t been a Shepherd, he would have had to wait out that cycle, but now it was more likely that Sorey would be a seraph sooner.

He tipped his chin up, trying for a confidence that he didn’t feel. “I would have to wait anyway.”

“NO!” Cynthia slammed her hand on the pile of clothes, the muffled thump not seeming to satisfy her. She moved so she was gripping the side of the desk and the chair. “That is not an answer.”

“Then what do you want me to do?!” Mikleo felt his voice crack over the words, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t intend to let Cynthia point out the bad parts of his plan, because he knew them. He felt them at every moment. What hurt just as much was that she didn’t understand. “I know I can do this because I did it before. But you won’t be able to do the same thing. My choices are to stay and let the rest of you get what you deserve after eight years of association with me, or I run away and ruin everything again, including Sorey. There’s not much of a choice left for me!”

Cynthia took a deep breath, looking like she was about to shout at him more when what he had said hit her. She froze with her mouth partially open, the shock leaking into her expression before pushing herself away from him. Cynthia knocked against the pile of clothes, seeming not to care that most of them slid to the floor and undid all of her careful folding. The pile revealed the box that she had set under it.

Mikleo frowned and reached out to open it, only to jerk his hand back when he saw the mask inside. 

It was a stylized dragon’s head, but nothing what he was used to seeing in the store in Camlann. Those were in a different style, a single color usually with bright feathers around the edges to obscure what parts of the seraph’s face that the mask didn’t. The eyes too were not left open like the modern masks, but instead inside with tinted glass, which made the whole thing look more lifelike.

He reached out to touch a tooth down towards the snout, marveling at it. This looked far more serious than the modern masks, with the toothless jaw. This was a design that hadn’t been used for centuries, probably even close to the original dragon masks that seraphim had worn when they had first pledged themselves in a pact to a Shepherd. This was more like what Zenrus would have worn. In fact, Mikleo was sure that this was exactly the one that his grandfather had worn when he had sworn his pact long ago.

Mikleo dropped his hand away, shaking his head. He hadn’t known where Zenrus would have stored the mask, which meant that it had been given to Cynthia, or she had asked for it. The sight of him made him ache all the more.

He pushed the mask a little further away from him, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t stay here.” Mikleo looked up at her in shock, watching as Cynthia wrapped her arms around herself. She was shaking, but he didn’t dare reach out for her. She looked seconds away from punching him in the jaw. 

It took her a long moment to meet his gaze, Cynthia’s eyes wide. “You can’t stay here because none of us would be able to bear it. It was hard enough the first time, to see you just…stop. I don’t want to see it again. I don’t want to see it and know that I’m part of the reason.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because it’s my fault.”

Cynthia let out a shaky laugh. “You were young and stupid. As far as I’ve heard, that’s the only thing you did wrong. Everything else is…” She swayed as she searched for a word, finally settling on, “human. You have to stop punishing yourself for that, or else you’ll never leave.” Cynthia took a step forward, but didn’t reach out for him. Instead she stood awkwardly in front of him, still clutching at herself. “Mikleo, we watched you wilt for eight years. And we tried to help, we really did, but we couldn’t fix everything.”

Mikleo shook his head. “You didn’t have to.”

“We did. Because if we didn’t, we would be as bad as Shiron.”

Mikleo snorted. “You couldn’t be as bad as Shiron.”

“Not doing anything would be just as bad as purposefully keeping away. Then you’d be more cut off, and how could we call ourselves family if we let that happen?”

“But, staying with me would hurt you.”

“Not in any way that mattered.” The corner of Cynthia’s mouth twitched up. “Clem heard the gossip on her way up, she knew who I was when we started dancing and who you were. She didn’t care.”

“She might be saying that.”

“No, she’s like Sorey in that way, she doesn’t lie. Or, doesn’t lie well.” Cynthia shrugged, some of the tension leaving her body. “And I don’t think I could get married knowing that you stood by and let everything go. That’s too much.”

“But if the Cardinal knew-”

“Then we make sure that she doesn’t find out, at least not for a while. And we make sure that she can’t do anything about it.”

Mikleo frowned, trying to piece together what she meant. If it was so easy, then he would have found a way around it a long time ago. Eloping had been the only thing he had come up with, but that meant running away to Lohgrin. The news would definitely reach Cardinal Forton by then. 

He was aware of Cynthia’s gaze on him, heavy and expectant. But then she was turning away with a laugh, Mikleo relieved by the sound.

Cynthia bent down to start picking up the clothes, folding them again. “Mikleo, you’re smart. But you’re _so_ dumb sometimes.”

“I don’t-”

“Cynthia? Are you ready? Loanna has the-”

Mikleo turned at the sound of Natalie’s voice, his eyes widening at the cloak that she had folded over her arm. 

Natalie barely glanced at him, her gaze dropping to where Cynthia was kneeling on the floor. She made an exasperated sound and bustled over, practically shoving the cloak into Mikleo’s arms.

“Cynthia, I thought you said this had to be quick.”

“I know.” Cynthia snapped out a shirt, shaking it to try and rid it of the wrinkles. She gave up a moment later, folding the shirt quickly before passing it off to Natalie. “But I had to talk some sense into our brother.”

Natalie turned to look at him, lifting an eyebrow. Mikleo stared right back, thinks slowly clicking into place. “You’re in on this too.”

“Someone has to be.” Natalie accepted the shirt from Cynthia, packing it away in the saddlebags. She worked through two more shirts before standing up to pick up the box. 

She carefully replaced the lid, pausing to look at Mikleo. A sad smile crossed her face, Natalie reaching out to rest her hand on his head. “Mikleo, did you think that we would just leave you on your own?”

The question took him by surprise, because there was no answer for that. His family had always been there, even Shiron with his obvious distaste. He had never once thought that they would abandon him. If anything, he thought that he would be the one to do the abandoning if he had ever made up his mind to run away.

He shook as Natalie knelt in front of him, his sister sliding her hand down to cup his cheek. “I think you’ve been fighting for our dreams for so long you’ve forgotten to fight for yours. Can you let us fight for you for once?”

Mikleo stared for a moment before nodding, clutching at the cloak in his lap. Natalie was quick to reach out and ease his grip, smoothing her fingers over his hands one at a time before turning to carefully pack the box in between layers of clothes. “Careful with that, it’s the best we could do on short notice.”

He paused in his careful shaking out of the cloak, really looking at it for the first time.

It was a beautiful satin, spilling over his hands in white through different shades of blue to the bottom, like a waterfall. Fanciful golden shapes at the shoulder and lines of a current around the hem were picked out in gold thread. Mikleo ran his fingers over one twist before looking over at Natalie. “This is yours.”

He remembered her wearing the cloak over her best pale blue dress when she had married Mason. She’d had baby’s breath woven into her hair, and she looked like she had stepped out of the river herself. He remembered the shock of seeing the red ribbon that Muse had used to handfast them, red for Mason’s element, whose house that Natalie was moving into. Mikleo pet the curl of a wave, his mind drifting to the ribbon that would be used for Shiron. His would be gold, because Malfore would be a Praetor.

Mikleo shook his head, chasing the thought away. That wasn’t important, what was more important was the weight of the thing that he had been given. 

He stood up, holding the cloak close to him. “Natalie, this is yours.”

“Yes. And now it’s yours.” Natalie didn’t look up from where she was carefully tucking a cravat in place.

“I can’t-”

“It seems a shame to have it molder away in my closet waiting for another water seraph, especially when there’s one who needs it. If it still bothers you, return it when you come back. That way the two of you will have to come back.”

Mikleo glanced down at the cloak in his shaking hands. “I will. I promise.”

“Good. Now,” Natalie stood up, grunting as she lifted the saddlebags. With her hands full it was Cynthia who took the cloak from him and carefully folded it. She placed it in the bag that Natalie held open, giving it a pat before shutting the back. Natalie adjusted the saddlebags over her shoulder. “Let’s get you moving. You have a lot of ground to cover.”

“But, where am I going?”

Cynthia giggled, reaching out to turn him around and give him a push. Mikleo was tempted to resist for a moment, but that wouldn’t get him his answers. His sisters would be insistent, and he didn’t feel like discouraging them, not when something like hope was welling up in him.

Cynthia gave him another little push to get him moving ahead of her before she slipped to his side, looping their arms together. “Cardinal Forton doesn’t have all of the say. Glenwood is too big for her to rule over despite her pretensions.” Cynthia rolled her eyes, but quickly recovered herself. “Besides, there’s a higher authority than her, and he’s in Ladylake.”

Mikleo almost jerked to a stop at that. By the laws laid out by the treaty between the two countries, if the Pope was in one country, then Maotelus must reside in the other. It was something that the Great Lord himself had insisted on. Pope Masedra was Rolance born and elected, which meant that Maotelus was officially residing in Ladylake. More than that, he would be there, because the Abbey in Pendrago had graduated and had him accept their Shepherds, which meant the Abbey in Hyland was next.

Mikleo twisted to look at his sister, waiting for some sign that Cynthia was joking, but his sister looked like she was enjoying the idea of pulling one over Cardinal Forton. The idea just made his throat go dry.

“How?”

“Rose. Or, her fiancée. She can pull some strings, which is why Sorey went on ahead. It will be a bit rushed, but all official. License and everything.”

Mikleo looked back over his shoulder at Natalie, searching her expression for some sign that this was a joke too far, that Cynthia was stretching the truth. But Natalie just had the soft, private smile on her face which meant that she was only partially listening. Her mind was probably on the arrangements, which meant that this was real.

He tightened his hold on Cynthia, his first instinct to push her away and plead that they stop, because it was too much. But it was a solution to his problem, and a way that he wouldn’t lose everything that he held dear. There would be no scandal, no insult to any member of his family. It was the world, and Sorey, and freedom. 

And he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

Mikleo only became aware that Cynthia was still talking when she leaned into him, the sound of her voice breaking through the fast swirl of his thoughts. 

“Loanna has one of her fastest waiting for you, as a wedding gift. You’re going to ride down to Ladylake through the night and, hopefully, be married by the time the sun rises. I assume you and Sorey will have to ride off and go on circuit for a bit because Cardinal Forton will be furious because of her precious ideas of purity, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. But don’t you dare disappear.”

Mikleo could only nod in the face of the torrent of her explanation. He was still stuck on the idea that his family was hustling him from Elysia, that they approved and what might happen when the news came out. It made him feel slightly guilty, not only for the continued trouble, but also for the fact that he had underestimated them for so long. He was still sure that Loanna and Cynthia would have hated to be penned in like he had been, but they were more determined than he thought they had been.

If Cynthia noticed his stunned silence, she didn’t comment on it. She just tugged him down the hallway and the stairs, keeping up her flow of instructions and barely concealed threats. Mikleo let it wash over him, content to be pulled along until they got halfway down the stairs. That brought the main hall into his line of sight, and all of the seraphim that had assembled there.

Mikleo stumbled over a step, reaching out to catch himself on the railing as he stared. He remembered this kind of sendoff for Natalie, even if she had been just going to the shrinechurch. It was something that Mikleo expected for Shiron and Cynthia. But he felt like he was sneaking out and eloping, so the sight of all of them felt wrong.

He stayed rooted on the stairs until Cynthia tugged on his arm. Mikleo turned to look at her, surprised by her indifference to the ceremony that he was being shown. “Mikleo, come on. You have a long way to go and Rose is waiting.”

That got Mikleo to turn away from the gathering of seraphim. “Rose is here?”

“It’s her fiancée that’s arranging all of this. Of course she’s going to make sure that you get there.”

“I thought she would have gone with Sorey.”

“Someone needed to go ahead and get things started. Might as well be Sorey. Besides, we had to get you moving.”

Mikleo ducked his head at the light scolding, listening to his sister laugh. She pulled on his arm, Mikleo giving in before he could fall down the stairs. 

The seraphim who had gathered at the bottom quickly gave away, backing to the walls and holding out bouquets of flowers. Mikleo felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of them. There wasn’t a specific arrangement, not like there had been with Natalie, but Natalie had had time. That they didn’t match didn’t matter. They had all made sure that he had this, especially since there wouldn’t be anyone in the shrinechurch with the same walk of flowers.

He stepped down onto the ground floor, Mikleo catching sight of a few of the flowers wavering as seraphim reached up to wipe at their eyes. Mikleo reached up to touch one of the flowers, almost sure that it would dissolve. All of it might dissolve away and he would wake up in bed with the same decisions to be made. But the flower remained whole, and Myrna kept smiling at him.

“Mikleo.” He turned at the sound of his name, finding that Cynthia had deserted him to rush forward. Natalie was by his side now, her hand resting on his shoulder. She looked concerned for a moment, her fingers tightening their group for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“It feels like a dream.”

“I’m sorry.”

He blinked and turned to look at her, surprised by the apology. It wasn’t her fault. It was his for getting caught and not reaching out for them earlier. But Natalie didn’t seem to mean her apology for that, nor did she tell him what she meant. She just squeezed his shoulder again and gave him a little nudge. “Gramps is waiting.”

Mikleo took a step forward, only then noticing where their grandfather stood by the door. Zenrus must have waited for the right moment, or else Mikleo would have noticed him and the bow that he was carrying. It was impossible not to notice it with how big it was and how the candles in the hall caught the gilding on it.

Mikleo walked forward in a trance, not able to tear his gaze away from where the bow balanced in Zenrus’ hands. He reached out to touch it when it was close enough, surprised to feel something like a vibration. It didn’t come through his skin, but ran through his mana, tugging at his artes and his core. It was like the times he would lean on the painoforte while Cynthia played it, and he could feel the work of the hammers on the strings. Except this time, he was the instrument.

He held his hand above the bow, not certain that he could push through the vibration to actual touch it. It wasn’t forbidding, but it was so much power, so much of his own element like he had never felt before outside of actually being in water.

Mikleo licked his lips, dragging his gaze away from the bow to look at his grandfather. Zenrus seemed to be waiting for that, because his grandfather smiled broadly before holding the bow up so Mikleo felt the curve of it against his palm. Mikleo shuddered at the contact, almost missing what Zenrus said.

“I’ve been saving this for a while, for one of our water seraphim that wanted to travel with a Shepherd. Although, for the past twenty years, I’ve been saving it for you. After all, a Prime Lord shouldn’t be without a divine weapon.”

“Gramps…” Mikleo could feel the words on his tongue, but he couldn’t quite get them out. It was more than he had expected, more than he would have hoped.

He struggled for words for a moment more before bowing over the bow. “Thank you.”

Zenrus huffed, reaching out to pat his head. “You do not need to thank me. As your grandfather, it’s my duty to raise you and my pleasure to see you reach your full potential. I’m just sorry that we couldn’t do this as properly as you deserved.”

Mikleo straightened up, looking back at the seraphim that were still lining the hall. It was more than what he expected, especially when he was sure that he would have been sneaking out through the gardens in the dead of night or a hidden wedding, or eloping. Or, he would be the one in the church, holding his bundle of flowers and smiling like he wasn’t wishing that it was him. 

He swallowed hard, feeling the bow press against his palms. He curled his fingers around it before he could actually think about the motion. It was still vibrating strongly, but it was surprisingly easy to ignore it now that he was holding the bow. Mikleo rubbed his thumb against the side of it, marveling at the smoothness. It wasn’t made of wood, he could tell that much. Just what it was made out of Mikleo didn’t know, and he didn’t think that Zenrus would give him an answer. 

Mikleo flexed his fingers around it, feeling at the bow seemed to settle against him. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he was sure that he would have the time to figure it out. 

He carefully slung the bow over his shoulders, unable to stop running his fingers along the string that felt like it was made of water, or pure elemental power. He stopped the motion when he felt the string start to vibrate harder, the sensation enough to set his teeth on edge. As soon as he took his fingers away, the vibration stopped, Mikleo taking the chance to take a deep breath before he focused on his grandfather again.

“I’ll make you proud.”

“You always do nothing less.” Zenrus reached out to pat his arm before nodding at the door. “Now go on, it’s not polite to keep a Shepherd waiting.”

Mikleo nodded, glancing over his shoulder as he walked towards the front door. “I’ll write.”

His grandfather nodded, raising his hand to wave. The motion cut off anything else that Mikleo was going to say, because it was as much of a dismissal as it was a goodbye. Some part of Mikleo wanted to linger, because this was his family. But, as close to the door as he was, he could hear the sounds of the horses as they waited and the sound of Rose’s voice. The latter more than anything was what shook him out of the daze he had been in.

He reached for the bowstring again before jerking his hand down, suddenly aware of the enormity of what was happening. He had spent years dreaming about what they would do when Sorey got back and now it was happening. It was all out of order, and nothing like he had planned. Shiron would have panicked, the thought almost making him laugh. His brother would have sat down on the stairs and refused to move until things were put to rights. But that was his brother, who hadn’t sat and dreamed for eight years.

Mikleo nodded at the seraphim in the hall before turning his attention to where Loanna was waiting with Rose. He flicked a quick glance at the horse that Loanna was holding, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that it was one of the more placid ones. He didn’t feel like having his arms pulled on the entire way to Ladylake, even if they would be windstepping along the way.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to shift the bow into a better position. It felt like it weighed nothing, but the touch of the string against his chest still felt live. It was almost tempting to touch, but he didn’t want his fingers or arm to go numb before he had to ride into Hyland. Mikleo settled himself by reaching back to play with the end of his ribbon, watching as Natalie walked past him to settle the saddlebags in place.

Loanna was quick to start to attach them to the saddle, Mikleo watching as she ran her fingers over the leather, checking the buckles. It was something that she always did, checking and rechecking the tack, but her hands were shaking. Loanna brushed her hand over the horse’s shoulder before turning, looking like she was going to do another check. Mikleo started forward, stopping when Loanna turned to look at him. Her gaze jumped to the bow across the back, her fingers twitching for a moment before she was running over.

Mikleo only had a moment to brace himself before Loanna was jumping onto him and holding him tight. He tensed, expecting her to jump away when she touched the bow, but she didn’t seem to notice it at all. Loanna just squeezed him tightly, pressing her face against his neck. “I’m going to miss you.”

“You say that like I’m not coming back.”

“Well, you’re not going to be around like before, so what else am I going to do.” Loanna loosed her hold, giving him a watery look. “Natalie is going to leave as soon as Mason gets settled. Cynthia is going to be busy with her Praetor. Shiron is going away to who knows where. It’ll just be me.”

“And your horses.”

Loanna pinched his side, making him jump. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“Then you want me to stay?”

“No!” Loanna pushed away, crossing her arms over “That’s not the point either. It’s just…changing.”

“It always would.”

“Yes, but not all at once. I thought it would be one at a time.”

“That would have been easier.” Mikleo meant to glance back at the manor, but his gaze caught on where Rose was waiting.

The Shepherd wasn’t quite impatient, but she was watching him closely with her arms crossed. Dezel was standing at their horse’s head, muttering to the animal. Mikleo couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he guessed that it wasn’t for him. 

It was obvious that they were waiting for him, and seemed willing enough to let him take as long as he wanted. But he had walked through the arch of flowers and had a divine weapon ready for his use. The daze had been stripped away, and he was left with nothing but excitement. Sorey was somewhere on the road ahead of him, and he could finally go.

He turned back towards Loanna, stepping forward to press a kiss to her forehead. Loanna leaned up on her tiptoes before reaching up to shove his shoulders lightly. “Go on, before I lock you in the harness room…just as long as you come back.”

“We will, I promise.” Mikleo stepped away for her, reaching out as Cynthia and Natalie moved in.

He grunted as both of them hugged him tight, squeezing him between the two of them. Mikleo tried to reach around them to return the favor, but they didn’t let him. Mikleo huffed and let them hold on, leaning into both of them.

“Take care.”

“Write often.”

“Stay safe.”

“Bring back stories.”

“Bring back souvenirs.”

The two of them turned to laugh at Loanna’s addition, Mikleo taking the chance to worm out of their hold. For a moment, he thought that they wouldn’t let him go, but then their arms slid away, and he was left standing on his own. It was strange after being surrounded by his family for so long, but he found himself eager for it.

He smiled at them. “I’ll try, but it’s not like I’ll be gone forever.”

“No.” Natalie reached up to push her hair behind her ear, a knowing smile on her face. “But you won’t be thinking of us too often.”

Mikleo blushed bright red, coughing and looking away. He could hear Natalie laughing and his other two sisters asking what she was talking about. Loanna at least sounded completely mystified, but Cynthia sounded like she had some idea. It was what Mikleo expected, since she was going to be married. If anything, Natalie would be having a talk with her soon, the one Mikleo managed to dodge.

Natalie smiled and just looped her arm through Cynthia’s patting her hand. Mikleo felt a little bit of regret for not being around to tease Cynthia out of the mood that she would be in, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from stepping away.

He gave his sisters a nod before going to his horse. The bow on his back made it difficult for his to mount, but he managed it without his usual grace.

Mikleo settled onto the horse’s back, gathering up the reins. His horse snorted and turned its head, Mikleo glancing in the same direction as Rose swung up on her own horse. At the horse’s head, Dezel flickered and disappeared into an orb of green light. He hovered around Rose before disappearing, Rose not even seeming to notice that Dezel had taken up residence.

His stomach lurched with the sudden want. The closest he had been able to get to Sorey before was through sex, and even that had been a pale comparison to Sorey being his vessel or armatus. Rose didn’t seem to give it a second thought, but it looked like something special, something private.

Mikleo cleared his throat, hoping his blush would have died down but, from the way that Rose raised her eyebrow, it probably hadn’t. He shifted in the saddle, reaching up like he was going to check if the divine weapon was still slung across his back. He thought better of it, jerking his hand down and tangling his fingers in the horse’s mane.

Rose seemed to take that as he was done with his goodbyes and gave him a nod. “Right. Just stick as close as you can so Dezel can windstep you too. I think it might work to keep you out of the worst of malevolence, although you might feel sick anyway. Just, try to throw up to the side if you must.”

Mikleo frowned. “Is there a way to avoid that?”

“Not unless you know how to make yourself a vessel.”

Mikleo shook his head and sighed. He’d never bothered to learn because Sorey would have been his vessel, and he would have left Camlann and Kyme’s domain. The only good thing he could see is that they would be moving quickly, so he wouldn’t have a lot of time outside of a domain, or so he hoped.

He twisted in the saddle, looking back at Elysia. The manor was all lit up, Mikleo seeing the shadows of seraphim as they bustled around. They would be preparing for a visit by the cardinal, it was inevitable that she would come to speak to Zenrus about all the proper marriage arrangements for her nephew as well as for Clem. And then there would be the celebrations for both of them, which would rattle Shiron because he would have wanted to be the one in the spotlight.

In between, they would probably hold a celebration for him.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, Mikleo watching as his three sisters walked back to Elysia arm in arm. Then he turned his horse and sent it cantering after Rose.

* * *

MIKLEO STARED AT HIS REFLECTION in the mirror, tugging at his cravat. It looked like it was lying straight, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything looked strange with the cloak draped over him. It looked at odds with his best clothes that Cynthia had packed for him. He was used to seeing himself in the coat and trousers with only an overcoat, not an old-style cloak.

He ran his hand over the front of it, tracing a swirl of gold. He swallowed and looked back at himself in the mirror, trying to search out something in the flickering candlelight.

He had expected something to be different, but there was nothing. He still felt the same, save for the little bit of retreating nausea from his ride down to Ladylake. But the sickness that the malevolence had brought on had started to fade as soon as he had entered the city. Mikleo hadn’t gotten a good look around before he was being ushered into the shrinechurch through the backdoor. Mikleo would have been insulted, if he hadn’t gone straight through and into one of the dressing rooms. That’s where Rose had left him with his saddlebags and a wink.

Mikleo reached up to touch his cravat before stopping himself. It was as straight as he was going to get it, and he had messed with the coat and the cloak many times. The only thing left to him was the dragon mask, which sat in its box, but he didn’t dare put it on, not just yet. Then everything would be real, and he wasn’t sure that he was ready for that. After all of the rushing everything had gone still, and he almost wanted to remain there. It would help the nervousness that he could feel bubbling up, but moving on with things would help more. Better still if Sorey was there, but he hadn’t seen Sorey since he had arrived. All he had was Rose’s assurance that he was there.

Mikleo looked at the door, tempted to peek out or maybe go searching for Sorey. The _Celestial Record _had said that the shrinechurch in Ladylake was slightly smaller than the one in Pendrago, because the island that Ladylake was on was only so big and could only hold so much stone. There was less chance that he would get lost in the winding passageways. He threw a glance back at the divine weapon that he had propped up against a shelf. It would be alright there, because Mikleo couldn’t think of anyone who would try and rob a shrinechurch, especially one that Maotelus lived in.

If he actually lived _in_ the shrinechurch in the first place.

Mikleo sighed and reached back to tug his ribbon out of his hair. He let it coil in his palm, staring at it. The ribbon was faded, frayed, and not matching the rest of his outfit, but he didn’t have another one to hold back his hair. And he didn’t think he wanted one. The ribbon wasn’t exactly the color of Sorey’s eyes anymore, but it had been his little piece of Sorey for so long he didn’t want to leave it behind. It felt wrong to do otherwise.

He carefully straightened the ribbon out, giving it another look before reaching back to start tying his hair back into his queue. The motion was calming and familiar, and it made him feel more like himself.

He tugged the ends of the bow firmly into place, shaking off a stray string. It clung stubbornly to his hand until he picked it off and let it fall on the ground. Mikleo watched it fall, his attention jumping away when there was a knock on the door.

He stared at the door, almost surprised when he heard another knock. He shook his head, pressing his hand against his chest before gathering himself up. “Yes?”

The door creaked open, whoever was on the other side hesitating for a moment before peeking through the opening. Mikleo was surprised to see that it was a child, the blond blinking owlishly at him. Mikleo blinked back before clearing his throat. “Hello?”

“Mikleo?” The boy tipped his head to the side, before shaking it and inching forward. “Of course you would be, no one else is here tonight.”

“Are you…here to help?”

The boy nodded, smiling brightly. “I am. Things are almost ready for the ceremony, but there’s some things the two of us need to do first.”

“We?”

The boy nodded again, brushing off his coat. Mikleo glanced at it, surprised at the white and gold on it. It was not something that he expected from a priest, even one in training, if they started so young. It was something more like a Praetor would wear, but the Abbey wouldn’t have started training nor graduated a child. Then again, he was a seraph, and there was no reason a seraph couldn’t be in training, or far older than they looked.

Mikleo gave the seraph one last look over before turning to carefully pick up the mask. He expected it to be heavier, but it was surprisingly light. Mikleo turned it carefully in his hands, looking at the band at the back. It would tie on just like any other mask and, if he wanted to cover the back, he could always lift the hood of his cloak. It would probably be more authentic to the first pacts made between human and seraphim. He ran his thumb against the edge before looking back at the boy. “What do we need to do?”

“Nothing big.” The boy stepped closer, his eyes widening as he stared at the mask. Mikleo considered offering to let the boy hold it when the boy’s expression turned serious. “We just have to make you my sub lord so that your pact with Shepherd Sorey will work.”

Mikleo nodded along until the words sunk in. 

Maotelus was the only seraph that possessed the power of purification, and he could only pass it on by taking seraphim as his sub lords before they became a Shepherd’s prime lord. The boy was a seraph, there was no question, Mikleo could feel the faint thrum of his power. But it was faint. Besides, everyone knew what Maotelus looked like, there were paintings and carvings of him all over Glenwood. The great silver dragon spreading his wings to shelter the people and seraphim alike.

He watched as the boy wandered over to the nearest chair and pulled himself into it. Mikleo waited for the boy to settle before moving closer. “Then, where do I have to go to meet with Maotelus.”

“Oh!” The boy squirmed in his seat looking embarrassed. “I should have said earlier, but I guess I got used to everyone knowing who I was.”

He cupped his hands out in front of him, offering Mikleo an apologetic smile as silver flames burst into life in his palms.

Mikleo stared at the flickering fire before collapsing to his knees. “Lord Maotelus.”

“Oh, no please.” The fire went out, Maotelus leaning forward in the chair, to the point where he looked like he was going to fall off. Mikleo jerked forward like he was going to save the boy only to stop as Maotelus caught himself. Maotelus motioned at him, Mikleo staring at him for a long moment before realizing that Maotelus wanted him to get to his feet.

He slowly got back up, watching as Maotelus sighed in relief and relaxed. The Great Lord resettled himself in the chair, giving Mikleo a nervous smile. “And if you would call me Maotelus, it’s fine. We’re not quite so formal here. And I like it better.”

Mikleo didn’t trust himself not to slip the proper title in, so it was better to just nod and remain silent. He turned the mask over in his hands, fighting the urge to just stare at it or Maotelus without stopping.

If his struggle was clear, Maotelus either didn’t notice or was polite enough not to comment on it. Mikleo caught a glimpse of Maotelus shifting into a comfortable position until the Great Lord gave up all decorum and slumped into the chair with a long sigh. Maotelus wiggled into the backrest, Mikleo swallowing back the familiar scolding about leaning into the backs of chairs. One did not correct a Great Lord.

Maotelus glanced over at him and caught his gaze, offering Mikleo another apologetic smile. “I know that this should be a slightly bigger ceremony, as soon as a license was granted or the third week the banns were read. I’m sorry it’s not. But we can make up for it now.”

Maotelus raised his hand, waiting patiently with a smile. It was a welcoming smile, which threw him off. Mikleo had always imagined the Great Lords as distant seraphim, ones that wouldn’t bother doing something like this. Then again, he had grown up with Zenrus, who was just barely under the Great Lords. Zenrus was warm and caring, so there was no reason the other Great Lords wouldn’t be like him.

He swallowed, stepping forward. Manners dictated that he should thank Maotelus for his generosity. It was probably what was expected. But, when he opened his mouth to express his thanks, all that came out was, “Aren’t you a dragon?”

Mikleo clapped his hands over his mouth a moment later, staring at Maotelus with horror.

Maotelus stared back at him, his eyes wide. Then he burst into laughter, the sound enough to get Mikleo to lower his hands. Mikleo didn’t dare to move from his spot, because he didn’t quite know what the laughter meant. There was every chance in the world that he had ruined everything by insulting Maotelus.

He swallowed and dropped his hands away from his mouth, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” The word was mangled with laughter, Mikleo risking a glance up at Maotelus. The Great Lord was practically slumped all the way down, his legs hanging off the edge of the chair. As Mikleo watched, Maotelus gave a few kicks to help himself wiggle back up into the seat.

Once there, Maotelus waved his hand, like that was enough to banish the apology. “Don’t bother, it’s an important question. I am a dragon everywhere else. Mostly I like being able to walk around without being recognized. It’s also very practical.” Maotelus pointed over to the door. “Those aren’t meant to let dragons through, so getting around here gets really difficult. “

“Oh.” In the light of everything it seemed like the wrong thing to say, but Maotelus was grinning anyway.

“Besides, like this people talk to me. If I look like I’m supposed to, they’re too busy bowing.” Maotelus made a face, Mikleo not having long to think about what exactly that meant before Maotelus was scooting forward in his chair. He settled himself on the edge of the chair, holding out his hand with a smile. “But your Shepherd is waiting for you. I don’t think we should make him wait too much longer.”

Another bout of laughter threatened to work his way up his throat because Maotelus couldn’t have known how true that was. It seemed like all they’d been doing was waiting. Waiting for the two of them to get to an age when their families would consider marriage or a pact. Waiting for Sorey to get back from the Abbey. Waiting for his family to be settled enough that their engagement wouldn’t cause a ripple. Mikleo didn’t even know what it felt like to not be waiting.

Mikleo stared at Maotelus’ hand for a moment before jerking forward and taking it. From the look on Maotelus’ face, he was surprised, but Mikleo didn’t care. He didn’t want to miss his chance.

Maotelus just smiled, gripping his hand tightly before closing his eyes. Mikleo shied away slightly when Maotelus lifted his other hand, a flicker of silver there. He stared at the flames of purification as Maotelus brought his other hand to their joined ones. For a moment, the flames crackled in his hand before they spilled over and onto Mikleo’s skin.

He tensed, expecting pain and agony, but instead there was just a gentle warmth. Mikleo watched as the outer edges of the flames flared closer to blue, probably burning off the malevolence he had picked up on the way to Ladylake, but they quickly calmed, the errant tongues joining the others and sinking _beneath_ his skin.

Mikleo sucked in a quick breath, watching as the flames moved. It made him glow from the inside, the flames leaving a trail up his arms until Mikleo lost sight of them over his shoulder. But he could still feel them, the warmth sinking in deep, like it was carving out a spot in him right alongside where his own element rested. It was enough to make him feel lightheaded.

He swayed in place, only held upright by Maotelus’ strong grip on his hand. Mikleo looked up at him, surprised to see that Maotelus was practically glowing as well. The Great Lord opened his eyes, Mikleo finding it hard to look away as Maotelus began to speak. “Oh ye born of the sacred currents of peace, here let our pact be forged, that my unquavering incandescence may be as thy purification. Shouldst thou accept this burden, recite aloud your true name.”

Mikleo opened his mouth to speak, his throat going dry. He swallowed hard, his throat working for a moment before he managed to croak out his true name. “Luzrov Rulay.”

As he spoke, he felt something settle heavy in his chest, Mikleo’s legs giving out.

He collapsed to the floor in an ungainly slump, breathing heavily as he heard Maotelus repeat his true name. His whole body jerked at the sound, the pleasant warmth growing into a heat that seemed to be unbearable before it stopped.

Mikleo panted for breath, staring at the chair in front of him. He saw Maotelus’ legs move out of his line of sight, but didn’t register what was happening until the Great Lord knelt in front of him.

“Mikleo?”

His own name sounded strange to his ears. Mikleo shook his head before looking up at Maotelus, the Great Lord looking out of focus for a moment. And then everything snapped back into place.

Mikleo gasped and jerked his hand away, staring at it. The glow was gone, and there was no sign that anything had happened save for the tingling that he could feel all through his body.

He slowly flexed his fingers, pausing in the middle of the motion when Maotelus started talking. “It’s going to feel strange for a while, but that just means it worked. You’re official my sub lord, and ready for your Shepherd.”

Maotelus grinned at him, Mikleo slow to return it. Everything felt just a little bit too off, and he didn’t trust his legs. It felt like they were still shaking, but he couldn’t be sure. The cloak has fallen across them, Mikleo staring at the golden swirls on the blue fabric. They had been bright before, but now they seemed to be sparkling with something more. Mikleo thought he caught the flicker of silver flame along the embroidery when there was a sharp knock at the door.

He startled back, surprised that he could move at all. Mikleo shifted his legs underneath him as the knock came again, this time the door opening slightly.

A woman in official robes peered in, her gaze skimming over him before she landed on Maotelus. She nudged the door open a bit wider before bowing to him. “Lord Maotelus, everything is ready.”

“Thank you.” Maotelus waved at her and clambered to his feet. He turned to offer Mikleo a hand, seeming not to see the wary glance that Mikleo gave it. “Are you ready?”

Mikleo nodded, cautiously pushing himself to his feet. He felt a little wobble, but his legs held, which was the important thing. He still stepped carefully towards the door, pausing part of the way across the room. Mikleo turned to look at the desk, staring at the mask that was waiting for him. He reached out for it, yelping at the little spark of purifying fire that jumped off of him when he reached out to touch it.

He jerked his hand back, shaking it to try and ease the burn. Mikleo turned to look at Maotelus, the Great Lord peering at him before shrugging. “It happens? You’ll adjust quickly.”

“How quickly?”

Maotelus hummed, tipping his head to the side. “You probably won’t do it during the ceremony. Probably.”

“Probably.” Mikleo echoed the word in a monotone. He flexed his fingers, looking back at the mask. His mind was already off of the silver flames. It was on the ceremony.

Sorey was waiting for him. It was all going to happen.

He swallowed and reached out for the mask again. This time there was no spark of silver flame, just the smooth surface of the mask underneath his fingers. He ran his fingers over the surface of it before slipping it over his head. He kept one hand pressed against it to keep it in place, but he was stuck on the tie that went behind his head. He was meant to have family come to help him.

“Here,” Maotelus gestured for him, Mikleo seeing it out of the corner of his eye, “kneel down.”

Mikleo carefully dropped down, holding still as he felt Maotelus reach up to tie the mask in place. Maotelus gave it a couple of tugs to make sure before scrambling away.

He remained kneeling for a moment longer, getting used to the restrictions of the mask. His peripheral vision was cut off, which made him a little jumpy. Or maybe it was the anticipation. He reached out to play with the edge of the cloak, going to start tracing the pattern when he stopped himself.

Mikleo dropped the edge of the cloak as he slowly got to his feet. The mask on his head felt heavy, throwing off his balance a bit and making him walk with his head held slightly higher and back, but maybe that was the point. Mikleo was sure that it made the dragon mask look more realistic, and it gave him a chance to see below the jaw of the mask. The glass inlaid eyes were beautiful to look at, but very hard to see out of. Mikleo wondered if the other seraphim who had used the mask had been guided into place, or if the mask had been put on at last minute.

He groped his way to the door, curling his fingers around the edge of it. The next time he reached out, someone caught his arm. Mikleo went to recoil, stopping when he heard the priestess speak. “Lord Maotelus, I’ll make sure that Lord Mikleo gets to the door safely. It might be best for you to be in place.”

“Of course.” He heard Maotelus move towards him, and then a pat against his leg. “I’ll leave you in good hands.”

Mikleo muttered his thanks, not sure if Maotelus heard it from the inside of the mask. It didn’t seem to matter, because he could hear Maotelus walking down the hall. Mikleo found himself listening to hear for the moment when Maotelus switched into a dragon, but the pattern of the footsteps remained the same.

He heard a door creak open, but he was distracted from doing anything more when the woman gave his arm a gentle pull. “My lord.”

“Yes, sorry.” Mikleo let go of the door, taking a few unsteady steps before he balanced himself. It was disorientating, only getting glimpses of the hallway or seeing it with a violet, blurred tinge. Despite the steadying hand on his arm, he kept tipping his head from side to side, trying to get a good view. He was sure that he was missing the wonderful architecture and sculpture, but it was taking all that he had to stay in a straight line without tripping over the cloak.

He adjusted his grip on the priestess’ arm, surprised when she patted just above where his sleeve ended. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”

Mikleo shot her a look, not sure that the priestess even saw it under the mask. Her words proved just as much when she spoke. “Pre-wedding jitters, it’s a common thing. Your Shepherd was practically shaking out of his skin when I left him.”

“He was?”

The priestess laughed, seemly delighted with the whole thing. That seemed to occupy her for a while, Mikleo listening to her hum as they walked along the corridor.

Distantly he could hear voices, echoing strangely through the stone. Mikleo tipped his head as he tried to make them make sense. He thought he heard chanting, but it was quickly lost. Mikleo turned his head, trying to pinpoint it again, but he was swept around a corner so fast it made him stumble.

He grabbed for the priestess’ arm, leaning heavily on her until he was sure of his balance again. By that time, she was slowing down. She shifted her grip on him, Mikleo craning his neck to get a good look at her face. Instead, he got a glimpse of the seraph that was stepping out from the cloth-covered doorway.

The seraph quickly stepped to the side, holding the cloth out of the way. “Everyone is waiting.”

Mikleo felt his stomach jerk, not having the time to decide whether it was nerves or excitement before he was being guided through the door and into the open.

He couldn’t quite see what the main room of the shrinechurch looked like, it was all lost in a blue blur. The only things that he could make out was the ornate tiles. Mikleo looked at the symbols and fantastic creatures underfoot, the only clear things. He thought he caught a silver, scaled leg, but then it was moving out of the way.

He twisted to try and catch a glimpse of Maotelus, but he was distracted by the sound of his name.

“Mikleo.”

Mikleo turned, regretting the mask more than ever because he couldn’t see Sorey. He knew that he was there, probably within reach, probably in his uniform.

He licked his lips and held out his hand, relieved when he felt a familiar calloused hand close over his fingers. Mikleo wiggled his hand so they were clasped together properly. He squeezed Sorey’s hand, giving him a smile Sorey couldn’t see and a breathless, “Hello.”

“Hey.” He heard Sorey take a deep breath, Sorey’s fingers tightening around his. “You look-”

“Friends, seraphim, and Shepherds!” Mikleo jumped at the sound of the priest’s voice. He turned his head, watching the man’s robes swirl as he took a step forward. He thought he heard Sorey chuckle, but the sound was drowned out as the priest spoke again. “Princess Alisha. We are honored by your presence at this the handfasting and pact ceremony of Sorey Kerderrien and Mikleo of Elysia. They have travel far and waited long for this moment. As such, by order of Cardinal Bruenor, who officiates this ceremony, there is no impediment to either bond that these two undertake.

“As such, it is my honor and pleasure to present this ribbon, a physical representation of the promises that these two will make to each other in the presence of witnesses.” Mikleo felt something loop around his wrist, the Cardinal continuing to loop it around their wrists as he spoke. “May it stand for the ties that bind these two together, wrist to wrist, heart to heart, soul to soul. In tying these two together, they do promise to protect and uphold each other.”

Sorey squeezed his hand, Mikleo startling as he recognized the pause for what it was. Sorey was already speaking, and Mikleo hurried to follow him, the two of them finishing a word apart. “This I do promise.”

The first knot was tied into place, the cardinal continuing. “In tying these two together, they do promise to share the largesse and the famines of their lives.”

“This I do promise.”

A second knot was tied, the cardinal jerking on it before speaking again. “In tying these two together, they do promise to hold to these oaths that they make to each other, in the sight of witnesses, the church and to each other.”

“This I do promise.”

The third knot was tied, Mikleo barely feeling the tug on the ribbon. The tension on the ribbon remained for a moment before it dropped away, Mikleo feeling the ends of the ribbons hitting his wrist.

“As they had promised, so we have witnessed. May they hold these promises and all others between them until the bonds between them are mutually broken in the sight of witnesses. I encourage the two before us to continue in their bonds and bless them in their marriage. And now, I present Shepherd Sorey Kerderrien and Mikleo of Elysia, handfasted husbands.”

Mikleo jumped at a sound whistle from over Sorey’s shoulder. It was followed quickly by a hushed “Rose!” but that was nothing compared to soft chuckle he heard from Sorey. He took a step forward, taking some of the tension out of the knotted ribbon between them.

“Husband?”

“I like the sound of it.”

“Very much.”

“Then I’ll have to say it more.”

Mikleo rocked forward, wanting to slap at Sorey’s arm and laugh, but it got caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, feeling a tear run down his cheek, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

He tore his gaze away from the blur that was Sorey when the ground underneath his feet shook a little bit. Mikleo turned his head to the side, watching as something large and glowing moved over them. He recognized the Great Lord a moment later when Maotelus spoke, his voice not deep and resonant, but sounding like the child who had met him in the room.

“Shepherd Sorey, I present to you Mikleo of Elysia, a seraph willing to become your Prime Lord and work as your partner for as long as you uphold the pact you made with me, and as long as you wield the flames of purification. I have accepted him into my service as my sub lord, and await your answer.”

Sorey was silent for a moment, Mikleo hearing a slight squeak before Sorey managed to talk, and even then his voice broke over the words. “I, Shepherd Sorey, offer myself to you as your vessel. I shall bear your burden and stand as your partner against the malevolence.”

Mikleo nodded, freezing as he realized that the silence meant that it was his turn to say something. But he didn’t know what his part was.

He knew the marriage part of the ceremony, he remembered attending a few before the scandal had kept him at home, but this was something that he didn’t know. It was obvious that it was taught to the Shepherds, which made sense. Not every Shepherd would be married, but they would all be taking a prime lord. Mikleo suddenly regretted not questioning Maotelus more about the ceremony, and less about why he didn’t look like all of his statues.

Mikleo swallowed, trying to subtly tip his head to meet someone’s gaze only to feel a shadow fall over him. A jaw appeared out of the corner of his eye, Maotelus speaking as _sotto voce_ as a dragon his size could. “You need to give him your true name.”

“But he knows it.”

It came out before he could stop himself, Mikleo blushing bright red and ducking his head. He heard someone behind him squeak, but he didn’t dare look. The mask would prevent him from seeing clearly. Besides, he didn’t want to see their censure.

Maotelus just huffed, the sound more like laughter than annoyance. “For the sake of the ceremony?”

Mikleo nodded, lifting his head until he guessed that he was meeting Sorey’s gaze. “Luzrov Rulay.”

He kept his voice low, between the three of them there. It didn’t matter that all three of them already knew his true name, Sorey was holding his hand just as tightly as he had the first time.

Then Maotelus was moving away, his head swinging over them as he spoke to the group assembled. “In the sight of Shepherds and seraphim, I acknowledge Shepherd Sorey Kerderrien and Prime Lord Mikleo. May they be a beacon of light to the people of Glenwood for as long as they serve under the pact. By my power, the flames of purification, I seal this pact and formally pass on my power to Prime Lord Mikleo to continue to cleanse Glenwood and her people of malevolence.”

Mikleo felt a shiver run down his spine, not sure if it was the gravity of the words of the pulse of power that he felt flow through him. Both were equally as powerful, especially since he could feel Sorey shaking. He adjusted his grip to get a better hold, succeeding in tugging Sorey closer so their hands were pressed between their chests.

Maotelus was still intoning the ceremonial words, but Mikleo paid them no mind. He could feel the fast beat of Sorey’s heart, the signs of his life so much stronger than before, and it made him smile. He had always wanted to be closer to Sorey, and now it felt like he could sink right into him if he wasn’t paying attention.

He tipped his chin slightly, wishing that he could see Sorey properly. Then Sorey’s free hand moved, like Sorey had heard him.

Mikleo stayed still as Sorey gently tipped up the mask, pushing the snout of the dragon up past his eyes. Mikleo felt it shift on his head, the back pressing against his queue. He reached up to steady it, distantly aware that he should take care of it because it was very old, but his full attention was on Sorey and his smile. The shrinechurch might have been lit up by candles and the silver glow from Maotelus, but none of those were brighter than Sorey’s smile.

Mikleo took a step forward, pressing their hands even closer. The hand that Sorey had used to lift the mask slipped down, coming to rest on his cheek. Mikleo leaned into it, holding Sorey’s gaze as he was pulled into a kiss.


	4. Epilogue

_DEAR MIKLEO,_

_I could have told you that I would be the one writing. It seems like I’m the only one with any time anymore. Which isn’t true because I’ve gotten just as busy with the rest of them. Apparently _someone_ let word slip about my horses and now every member of the _ton_ is coming to view them. I think I’ve offended half of them enough to leave me alone, both about the horses and myself. Maybe if they knew the difference between a good hunter and a showy, nervous wreck of a horse, they would have a chance. Alas, most of them are idiots._

_And I am being kind. I don’t understand why they take my frank refusal or insults as proof that I am not serious. I am very close to running them down with a horse. But Medea tells me I shouldn’t._

_Besides, the horses have better sense than to actually step on someone, much to my disappointment._

_But I’m sure you don’t just want to hear about my struggles, because they aren’t that bad. It’s only until the season ends and all of them flock back to Pendrago, Ladylake or wherever they come from. And then they’ll be too busy chasing society seraphim to bother with me. That leaves me free and clear for most of the year, but I think I’m the only one with that privilege._

_Gramps is kept busy with Elysia, especially since four of you left. The others are helping out, but I think no one realized how much the rest of you did. He’s taken on a few workers from town. They’re all old soldiers from the war and their families. Apparently, they’ve been driven out from their homes from all the enclosing that Rolance is doing. It’s almost funny to watch them when Gramps rants about that particular behavior. That being said, Gramps is looking to clear out more land down the ridge to see if there can be another town. I agree, because it seems like a waste to have our own country and only have Camlann._

_Don’t worry, it’s not going to happen for a while. He’s still talking with the families and with Praetor Clem to figure out how it would be done, and just who would go along to be Lord of the Land._

_Speaking of Clem, she’s settling in with the rest of us just fine. It was wonderful to hear the first time her actual accent came out. Cynthia actually squealed with delight. It’s so much better than that bland, hoity-toity Pendrago accent that she’d been using. I think that means she’s finally relaxing._

_That’s probably not the news you were looking for, but that’s what you get when it’s me that writing._

_So, to attempt some kind of order:_

_Clem and Cynthia are doing fine. In fact, they are almost as sweet and saccharine as you and Sorey were. They are presenting a united front that everyone in Camlann loves. They’re always arm and arm everywhere or leaning over the same thing. I don’t think they’ve been separated since their marriage. It is like no one told them that the ribbon had been untied and they can get further than an arm’s length away._

_But that’s not what you’ll ask about, is it?_

_They’re perfectly happy. Obnoxiously so. And I’m glad. I really am. Cynthia deserves someone who looks at her like she hung all of the stars in the sky._

_I guess you want to know about the wedding, since you stayed prudently away. For that, you have a lot to make up to Cynthia for. She kept waiting for you to show up anyway and scandalize everyone there. I think she kind of hoped that it would happen. But I told her that you wouldn’t be our brother if you weren’t trying to protect us from things we didn’t need protecting from. So, she forgives you, mostly. Just come back for midwinter, or sooner. Please, for the both of us. Then maybe we will both forgive you._

_And maybe we’ll forgive you more if you bring us something cool from your travels._

_I guess that covers Cynthia, for now unless she gets a chance to write. She might not, they’re still getting things in order. _

_You’d be glad to hear that Camlann is working towards recognition as part of the Abbey. We’re not at our own place to train Shepherds, nor at our own Cardinal, but talks are happening. You were right to ask us to write to Shepherd Michael, although I don’t think anyone has figured out how he knows the Pope. We’ve written to find out the answer and, so far, both Lailah and Michael are being evasive as usual. I’m sure we will get the story out of him, but I think you need to lean in as well. You and Sorey were always his favorites, so you two might have better luck._

_Right, some kind of order. See how long that lasted?_

_Anyway, that just leaves Natalie._

_She’s no longer at Elysia, at least for the moment. She and Mason have been invited to help out a friend of Mason’s in Lastonbell. Apparently, they were apprentices together. It’s a temporary thing, or so they keep saying. From what Natalie has said, it’s quite a large shop, and Mason’s friend is the only one running it. And Lastonbell seems to be needing everything they can do. According to Natalie, they need a water seraph in the forge, she makes things go a lot faster. From what I can tell from her letters, she’s overjoyed. But I’ll let her tell that story._

_That might be it from all of us. Elysia runs on the old patterns like it always has. I guess that’s supposed to be comforting, that things are the same without you here. I don’t really think so, but then again, it’s a little different because you’re not here. I know you’ve given us your circuit, but try to visit._

_I got used to having you around and I think the others did to. They’re starting to comb the areas around where the earthpulse gets close to the surface. Taccio says it’s gentle exercise for his old bones and Medea and Myrna say that they’re taking the time while they can. Gramps doesn’t say anything, but I know what they’re looking for. If they have their way, I might be the oldest, which I’m not opposed to. I miss the noise, not that it has gotten any quieter. But I miss the old level of noise. I’ll be busy soon enough though, and then you’ll be back around. Or you better be._

_Safe journeys and give our love to Sorey._

_Your sister,  
Loanna_

_Dear Mikleo,_

_I’m taking up the little bit of space left to me by your sister. Her promise of brevity did not last, but I do not blame her. Letters are useful, but somehow less so when writing to a person who you could once just talk to. Still, she has done a good job in keeping you up to date in some respects._

_Never fear, no one is a rush to replace you or the others. Your room will remain the same for when you and Sorey visit. Elysia has far too much space and far too few seraphim. But that’s good, it means that they feel safe in the world and that we have more space for those that need it._

_We’ve all kept ourselves busy. Two weddings, then the mill, then all of the running of the place. I miss your notes on things. They were at least legible. I guess that means that I should make more of an effort. It’s hard when there’s so much to do, but I enjoy keeping busy. And I can’t wait for you to see what we have done thus far._

_Stay safe, write often. I look forward to hearing of your adventures, despite the delay._

_Love for always,  
Gramps._

_\---_

_Mikleo,_

_I’m sure that Loanna has already written you. I’ve heard that it’s a job that she’s taken seriously in the view of Cynthia’s…lapse. I’m afraid she’s been seduced away by responsibility and marriage. You and I both know that it is a heady combination. But never fear, she’ll come around. In the meantime, you have more time for the rest of us, and I’m inclined to be jealous enough to take up some of it. After all, it was the two of us for so long, I miss that._

_As you have probably heard, I have moved out of Elysia once again. Mason’s old friend offered us a place in Lastonbell. Apparently, another pair of hands was needed._

_It’s nothing as glamorous as what Mason trained to do, but he’s more than happy to do it. It’s been a while since he’s been able to do anything related to his trade, even if it’s making nails. I’m sure that the novelty will wear off, just like I’m sure that there are plenty of other things that will catch his attention. I’m cautious about saying that this is for a lengthy amount of time, but there’s plenty of room for expansion and in the shop for the three of us. _

_Lastonbell is a beautiful city. Although, to be honest, I’m impressing everyone we know with facts gleaned from you and Sorey. For now, they are serving me in good stead, but that might change. I might have to pick up a book in a while and would welcome any recommendations._

_I’ve also taken to writing down interesting things to send your way. There are a few local historians that have started to come to the forge because Mason has managed to make a couple of historical looking pieces. I can’t say what age they’re from, but I feel like it’s a mix. He did them based on some of my drawings which were always rather more fanciful than historical, but they were pleased enough. Apparently, there’s quite a market. So, I propose an exchange. I’ll do some sketches of the more interesting things around Lastonbell in exchange for a few more historical tidbits that you run across._

_Yes, this is me asking for continual updates on your travels. But I’m your big sister, I’m allowed to worry about you like this. I trust Sorey to keep you safe, but I also remember very well the trouble you two go into. And I’m not around to rescue you two from your fifth night trapped in a shrine._

_I’m worrying again, but I feel like you’re doing the same for me and all the others. So, we will just hold ourselves together the best we can and write often._

_Enclosed is a few sketches I’ve made of the bell tower. There’s a lovely pub here, owned by an ex-Platinum Knight. It’s one of our favorites. We’ve spent many an evening eating and listening to the bells, so I’ve had time to sketch._

_Good luck on your travels and best wishes from your loving sister,_

_Natalie_

_\---_

_Mikleo,_

_I know this is days and months overdue, and it gets tardier every time I write. There’s the time we last spoke, then the time it took for you to get where you are, the time it took for me to get married, the time it took to get to where I am. And this delay. _

_Every day I sit down to write a word, a line, and then I walk away for many reasons. I’m the husband and Prime Lord of a Praetor, and there are responsibilities that keep me up around the clock. And you have your traveling and your marriage. It seems like none of us should have the time, but I was told by <strike>Charlotte and Samuel</strike> friends of mine here Dinéault that in cases like this I should make the time. I don’t know if you have made the time yet, because it will take a while for these letters to get through to where we both are. It’s not like these could be carried by the wind seraphim. _

_I’m trying to find the words for it, I’ve been trying for days and weeks because I was so angry. I am and have been for a long while. My<strike> Charlotte and Samuel</strike> friends said that I should write it out before letting it fester, because that way lies resentment that could go on for centuries._

_I was mad because after it happened, it was like I could see every door slammed in my face, and I was scared. There was so much that I wanted to do and it felt like all of that was going away. I think the worst was that the town said one thing and the rest of the family believed the other._

_I don’t know if I chose the right side._

_I don’t know if I had to choose looking back._

_All of this is…all of this is because I arrived here and there was no one. Elysia is so loud, but it’s family. I got used to that ruckus. Here, I’m still in the stages of meeting everyone. They haven’t gotten past Mr. Shiron Forton. I miss the familiarity. Maybe that got me writing. It was either that or the two letters from home made me miss it all. Which made me realize that I hadn’t gotten one from you, and probably never would._

_That is half the story maybe. The other half, one day I might tell it all, I’m still adjusting to everything. Or readjusting._

_We’re very busy here._

I _am very busy here. Being a Prime Lord for a Praetor means a lot of my time is out in the city. I don’t know what being a circuit Shepherd’s prime lord is like, but my job I think would be a lot like Gramps’ as the closest comparison. But Gramps had all of us at all times. I’m just…_

_You were right in a way. And that made writing this all the harder._

_Oh, I get to go to the parties and the morning calls. I get to go on the arm of a handsome and wealthy Praetor, but that’s all he does. The rest is done with the help of my <strike>Charlotte and Samuel</strike> friends. A husband and wife pair of aldermen of the city. They’re used to Dinéault and are teaching me the ways. It’s like working on Elysia again. I like that about this. _

_I just wish it was more like that. More like you and Sorey, because you were right. About this one thing at least. _

_And that’s all I can say. _

_For now._

_Maybe later, when all of it isn’t so new, I can say more. But I would like to write, until then. Maybe it’ll feel better like that. Maybe you’ll write back, maybe you won’t. I’ll send this along to your next posting anyway. Until your reply, I’ll be here, working._

_Shiron._

* * *

_SHIRON,_

_I have received your letter, and it got here just fine. It was waiting for us when we got to Wormelow Tump, safe and sound in the inn. If I am perfect honest, I am surprised _–

Mikleo paused as he heard a splash from behind the screen. He glanced in the direction of the screen, stopping his writing to play with the rings around his finger. One was gold, the other blue, neatly stacked on each other. He held his hand out, twisting it so the rings caught the light. It had been months and he had yet to tire of that.

He smiled to himself, leaning back against the pillows of the bed before turning back to the letter he was writing. He considered the few words on the paper before huffing and twisting to dip his quill into the inkpot on the desk close by.

Mikleo chewed on the end of the feather, his gaze sliding over to Shiron’s letter on the bed. He had not expected it, which was probably why he had saved it for last. The others had been answered between their arrival and chasing down the two big hellions that had been causing the most problems. 

There were still hellions to take care of, but they were smaller and less troublesome. Besides, he and Sorey had been out chasing down the other two for days. Sorey needed time to rest and bathe off the smell of dirt and sweat. And the village needed time to prepare. They had promised a celebration, which meant that he and Sorey couldn’t be running around open fields or stumbling through the woods. Besides, it had been a long while since he’d been to any kind of party, and a celebration sounded like just the right thing.

It would be good to eat food that the two of them hadn’t attempted to cook themselves.

He sighed and let the end of the feather slip out from between his teeth. Mikleo dropped his gaze down to the letter still sitting on the bed with him.

He had read it many times over, letting the week between villages roll by as he tried to figure out what to say to his brother.

If he was honest with himself, he had never expected to speak to Shiron again. The last time they had seen each other was so final.

Mikleo sighed, looking back at his own letter. He stared at his careful letters, made even more careful by his hesitation. Shiron might pick that up right away. Then again, they hadn’t really talked for eight years. Stray comments and sniping at each other didn’t count. Mikleo cleared his throat and shifted so he could write better on the piece of wood he had scavenged for his use.

_I didn’t expect you to write. I thought you would be much like you describe, very busy with the work of a prime lord, both social and otherwise. It seems like it was everything that I thought it would be for you…and everything that it is not._

_I don’t like being right about this. Whatever you may think of me, know that. You can tell me the whole thing in the next letter or when we meet again. I think we both need the time. Months and weeks for now, and then more later._

_But you have my support. That hasn’t changed. I’m still your brother after it all. That won’t change either._

_I’ll have to look at a map to see exactly where Dinéault is, but we might be able to swing by on one of our loops, if you’d like. Or we can meet up outside your city if that is better._

_In any case, I look forward to seeing you again, because you sound happy. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen you like that._

Mikleo stared at the paper, groaning as two drops of ink fell on the paper. It didn’t ruin it too badly, he could still write around it like he always did. Shiron would huff at it, because it was not proper or careful. Then again, his brother might actually like the reminder. He couldn’t tell, it was hard to tell in writing. As Shiron said, it had been months, and he might have changed his mind. Things could have evened out.

But being lonely for Elysia wouldn’t stop. It would fade, but not stop. Then again, he had been the one who had always dreamed of adventure. He had always been ready to leave, ready for quick visits and letters for decades until he went back to Elysia.

He flicked the pen absently, watching the feather wave. Mikleo sighed, twisting to drop the pen back in the inkwell. It rattled around in there for a moment, Mikleo watching it just long enough to make sure that it wouldn’t topple over.

Mikleo played with the edge of his letter before shaking his head. He would try to add more, or try again later. Maybe Sorey would have something. An outside perspective would help. Besides, Sorey had an earnest touch, one that Mikleo was sure that he had lost from close contact and being siblings. After all, he was prone to worry too much, everything he had done had pointed to that.

He groaned, twisting around to set the piece of wood and the letter on it on the floor. Mikleo stared at it for a moment before heaving himself up and pacing to the window. He leaned against the wall, staring out into the garden behind the inn. He absently played with his rings, twisting them around his finger.

There was a splash from the other side of the screen, Mikleo lifting his head slightly as he listened to Sorey get out of the bath. He could sense Sorey’s movement through the water and in some distant sense that Mikleo could only suppose was his connection to his vessel. It sent a thrill of excitement down his spine.

He pressed his thumb against his rings, pushing them apart briefly before letting them fall back against each other. 

At least that was clear.

He dropped his forehead against the glass, listening as Sorey moved around behind him. He heard the rustle of a towel, Mikleo listening for a moment before flicking his fingers to banish the water from Sorey.

He heard Sorey yelp, Mikleo smiling.

“Mikleo!”

“Just helping.”

“Warn me next time.”

Mikleo chuckled, turning slightly so he could watch as Sorey walked out from behind the screen. He was still working at the cuffs of his shirt, his attention there rather than on him. It gave Mikleo the chance to admire him. 

The shirt was one of their spares, one of the few saved from the mud of the past few days or the dirt of the road. The worst of their clothes were in a basin, soaking. The innkeeper had taken the stained Shepherd’s cloak and promised to have it back by tonight. Mikleo hoped she would manage to salvage it before he had to work on it. Sorey looked especially dashing in his cloak.

Sorey finally looked up at Mikleo, a soft smile crossing his face. His gaze lingered on Mikleo for a moment before dropping down to the letters on the bedspread. “Catching up?”

“Almost,” Mikleo sighed and slumped back against the wall. “There’s just...one.”

Sorey hummed, stepping closer to the bed. He tipped his head to the side, looking over Shiron’s letter. Mikleo saw him frown, Sorey reaching out like he was going to pick the letter up. He stopped, letting his fingers fall to the covers.

“We could visit?”

“We could…”

“It’s on our route, sort of.” Sorey came around the bed, walking halfway to Mikleo before stopping. “You could send a letter and tell him we’re coming, and we’ll see what he replies.”

Mikleo nodded. It was sensible enough, and it would give them both time to come to terms with the idea and at least pretend to be happy. Although, he hoped that they wouldn’t have to pretend.

“Mikleo?”

He sighed. “I should try…”

That seemed to be enough to bring Sorey the rest of the way to him. Mikleo allowed himself to be tugged away from the window and into Sorey’s arms. He pressed his face against Sorey’s neck, taking a deep breath and relishing the fact that Sorey didn’t smell of mud. He smelled clean and a little bit like lavender from the inn’s soap. It was comforting.

He closed his eyes, leaning into his husband. It was tempting just to stay here in Sorey’s arms. It was nice there, even if the two of them were just standing.

He felt Sorey kiss his forehead, Mikleo humming happily. He huffed when Sorey started pulling away. He grabbed onto Sorey’s shirt, intending to tug him to the bed and pull him down.

Sorey grabbed his hand, giving it a light tug. “Come on. This can wait until tomorrow.”

Mikleo wanted to protest, because he wanted to work this out, but Sorey was right. It would take a while for the letter to get to Shiron, and it would take them time to get to where his brother was stationed. In between there would be plenty of time for them to come to some understanding, even if it was through stilted letters. Letters were better than silence.

Mikleo squeezed Sorey’s hand. “Alright.”

Sorey grinned at him, tugging him close. Mikleo laughed as Sorey bundled him against his side, pushing against him until they were arm in arm instead of tangled around each other. He ignored Sorey’s pout in favor of kissing his cheek. “Come on. They’ll be waiting.”

Sorey huffed, although it was hard to take him seriously when he was still smiling. Mikleo leaned into his shoulder, jostling him until he was laughing.

“Alright, alright. We’ll go. Impatient.”

“I want to get you fed. On something other than something we’ve made.”

Sorey made a face and shudder, Mikleo glad that he had gotten his point across. He bumped his shoulder into Sorey’s again. “We’re getting better?”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Sorey was shaking with laughter, leaning heavily against him as he gathered himself back together. Mikleo let him, pressing a smile against Sorey’s shoulder at the two of them gathered themselves.

Sorey was the first to recover, kissing him again before straightening his shoulder. “Come on then.”

Mikleo squeezed Sorey’s arm, straightening up so he wasn’t leaning his weight against Sorey. Then they left the room and headed to the celebration waiting for them, arm in arm.

END


End file.
